


Consign Me Not to Darkness

by t0bemadeofglass



Series: These Choices Seal Our Fate [2]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Asgard, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Berserker Thor, Complete, Drama, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Multiple Pairings, Mythology References, Porn With Plot, Sex, Slow Build, Threesome M/M/F, X-Men References, slight non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-06 01:56:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a realm eternal the cogs and wheels of revolution and change rarely, if ever, turn, yet the failure of the convergence to link all nine realms to the same, slow time stream has repercussions none could imagine.  As Midgard finds itself with a new foe, one the Aesir have never prepared to help fight against, a new age and an alteration of the old ways is quick to find Asgard, ready or not.</p><p>Sequel to Better Not to Breathe Than to Breathe a Lie</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bedroom Hymns

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I told you I'd be back with part two, and voila! Here 'tis. I hope you enjoy, and thank you all a million for reading and what not! This takes place in the same world/AU as Better Not to Breathe Than to Breathe A Lie, so if you have not read that first I HIGHLY recommend you do that, first. Otherwise things might not make sense.  
> Thanks again for accompanying me on this crazy ride, and enjoy!

“Odin--.”

“Allfather, you have not regained your full strength yet,” the healer said, one hand tentative as it reached out to try and make the man lie back down. Though the king of Asgard had only one eye his gaze was as fierce and terrifying as any oncoming foe, making the healer shudder and swallow his next words about needing to rest.  

“I need to speak with my sons.  The Sleep came to me at an inopportune time and I must set right what has been muddled and destroyed.”  He growled, throwing back the golden blankets, hardly hearing what Frigga said to him about the boys not being able to be reached at the moment, calling out for Gungnir to be brought to him as he pushed himself to weak feet.

“Are they on a hunt?”  He asked, turning to stare at his wife. He wished he could have been happy to see her, could have spared a thought to kiss the worry from the tight corners of her eyes and lips, to squeeze her hands and promise that everything was going to be alright, but it wouldn’t.  Nothing would be the same anymore.  The disturbance in the convergence and his plans had set into motion his awakening, and though he could feel it was far too early and his body was still fatigued he pushed it all away.  There was too much for him to fix.

“No, my husband, but if you will sit down and relax, so as not to bring the Sleep back,” she emphasized.  “Then I am sure if we send a servant they will come as soon as they are able.”

“They better not be with that whore,” he spat.  “That Natasha Romanov.  I regret ever letting the wench survive the attack on Kiev.”

“At least she’s done more to bring your sons together than you can imagine,” Frigga defended, voice a hiss, and though Odin rolled his eyes he didn’t refute it.  

 

Natasha’s back arched as Thor’s mouth fastened on her breast, Loki between her long legs, moaning as he thrust into her in a slow, steady rhythm, helping Natasha ride out her second orgasm, one hand twined with his as she moaned and rolled her hips to meet his, her other hand between Thor’s legs, stroking him in time to Loki’s thrusts. They’d managed to more or less perfect having all three of them in bed, and Nat couldn’t have been any happier with her husband and her lover.  They’d come a long way since the first time they’d tried this, the pair of them having bickered for so long that Nat ended up taking matters into their own hands.  Apparently watching her play with herself was enough to restart their minds long enough to get them on their backs and their cocks in her mouth and hands.  Who knew?  She moaned as Loki pushed himself deeper into her, as Thor shifted his weight so that he moved closer to her head.  She paused, licking her lips, and tapping Loki on the leg.  With ease he pulled out, flipped her over onto her front, and once she’d scooted close enough to Thor to take him into her mouth he pushed back into her. It’d taken awhile to perfect that move, but as she tilted her hips upwards and moaned around Thor’s length she couldn’t have been any more pleased with it.  Thor fondly ran a hand through her hair, whispering how good she felt around him, rubbing the back of her neck gently where he knew she liked it, right at the point where the base of her skull met her spine. She moaned around him again, shaking as Loki took her hips in hand and pulled her back and onto him.  

A knock on the door had them pausing for a second.  With a lewd pop she pulled off of Thor’s cock.  “Yes?”

“The Allfather is awake and requesting to speak to all of you,” Frigga said, sounding a touch amused.  So long as her boys had stopped fighting and were actually, remarkably, cooperating with one another, Natasha was sure they could’ve gotten away with near anything.  It always warmed her heart when she thought of what the poor woman had put up with for the sake of their happiness, and as an official lady in waiting to Frigga she did her very best to attend to the queen when the future king and her husband didn’t call to her.  Thor let out a low curse that Nat mirrored, while Loki simply shrugged.  

“We will meet with him in a few minutes, thank you mother.  Simply need to finish up these plans for the wedding.”  Frigga had insisted on getting the word out about Loki and Natasha’s engagement, despite the pair already being married.  The attention and event would get enough public praise and make it impossible for Odin to succeed in finding a way around Loki and Natasha’s secret marriage.  Nat really did owe the woman more than she could ever hope to repay, though one day she might find a way to.  At least she truly meant to.  Frigga snorted but the footsteps proved she’d walked off.  Not wasting a moment of time, Loki slammed back into Natasha in a fury as her mouth for Thor once more and swallowed him down, grinning at his gasps when she moaned around him.  

“You two are the worst of influences,” he moaned, hips bucking into Natasha’s mouth.  She simply grinned up at him through her lashes and Loki’s laugh felt good as it echoed in her chest.  

 

Nervous wasn’t quite the word Natasha was looking for when she tried thinking how to describe how she felt about seeing Odin.  The last time he’d been awake she was a promising member of the guard, Loki still believed himself to be a true born heir to Asgard’s throne rather than Jotunheim’s, and Thor was the a good-natured warrior who longed for nothing more than glory and the thrill of battle.  Now?  She smiled as she looked from the dark haired man who twined his fingers with hers, then over to the blond man half a step ahead of them, if only for appearances sake.  Though they were still prone to arguments, their banter quick and sharp as the throwing knives Loki was well known for and their gazes cutting down any who stood in between, there was an air of familiarity between the pair of them, a sense of solidarity almost, Natasha thought.  And she?  Her free hand still ghosted over the scars left from the surgeries she’d had on Midgard, as though they burned and ached even through the thick gown.  She still woke to nightmares, and in bed they took every precaution to make sure she would not put herself through the strain and terror of having the past repeat itself.  She’d learned from her mistakes the best she could, trying not to focus on what had happened but rather what the future looked to bring, and even though the nightmares of blood between her thighs and the slow fluttering and eventual stop of a heartbeat would cause her to scream out in the night, the two men never failed to let her know it would never happen again.  She was protected, safe.  It was all in the past.  

The Allfather looked exhausted, face still drawn and his grip on Gungnir tight despite him sitting down on the throne, his one good eye surveying them with an unreadable expression.  Without hesitation Natasha bent at the knee, her right hand crossing to her left shoulder as her head bent, trying the best she could not to remember the last time she’d been here.  Loki, in an attempt to apologize, had sat her down on the throne, spread her legs and, allowing her to hold onto his horns for leverage, had put his mouth--.

“Rise.  All of you.”  Odin barked, the others having shown the same respect that Natasha had done her best to.  She swallowed hard, wiping the rising color from her cheeks as she looked at Odin with as much deference as she could muster.  It was rather difficult, she had to admit.  She still resented the man for what he’d done to her land, what he’d tried to do to the nine realms.  Chaos had erupted in the other realms, as the Allfather was now keen to explain, all because of the convergence.  His gaze never left Natasha’s, even as he addressed Loki for the problem.  She squeezed her husband’s hand as he straightened, own face expressionless and eyes blank.  

“Forgive me, father.  There were complications with the ritual and the reversal--.”

“Has thrown things you knew naught about into absolute chaos.  That is what you revel in, is it not?” He demanded, voice haughty and chin tipped upwards. Natasha’s blood simmered in her veins, singing in her ears to just put a spear through the damn man’s heart.  

“It is one of my greater talents, causing it, yes,” Loki admitted, voice droll, as though this conversation was boring him.  The straight line of Odin’s back told the prince he was treading a very thin line, and he added the quietest of “sirs” to the very end of the sentence.  Respect, right.  Odin was still king so long as he drew breath, Thor and Loki still beneath him as heir apparent and soon to be royal advisor.  

“And you, Lady Romanov?”  

Natasha’s head shot up, blue eyes finding Odin’s grey one.  She swallowed hard and did her best to straighten her face into one of absolute contrition.  If Loki’s squeeze on her hand was anything to go off of it was convincing at least.  They’d see how far it got her.  “Allfather?”

“You tormented my sons, pitted them against one another for the sake of the realm you once called home.  You meddled in affairs that were none of your business, and misaligned the time streams for your own selfish ambitions, as well as put your unborn child in danger. Have you anything to say for yourself?” He demanded with a growl, leaning backwards in the throne.  

Her teeth ground together though she veiled her irritation from him as best she knew how.  He invaded a realm because he could, thought to enslave her people with the false promises of a near eternal life in order to prevent any future uprisings, and he had the audacity to make her out to be the villain?  Again she felt the desire to take Gungnir into her hand and drive it through his skull, though it would certainly get her killed as a result.  It was almost worth it.

“And now I hear you and Loki are engaged.  Are you to poison the thoughts of my son and any possible child you two have?  Assuming you can produce again.”  

Her heart ached with the low blow, sure that for once the pain showed through.  How he’d known to play on that fear, on her paranoia that she’d never . . . that she could not . . .  Her eyes turned down to the stone flooring just as Loki piped in, voice less than kind as he defended her.  

“Allfather, Natasha and I love one another, and have loved one another for some time.  What happened in the past matters not to me so long as she is at my side.”  His voice was insistent, nearly overdone, as though the dramatics of his words would only further prove his affection.  

“Yet your opinion is not the only one that matters.  There are other lives than your own that are at stake because your love got in the way of you finishing your job,” Odin spat, rising from his chair and practically spitting in his fury.  “You all know nothing of what is to come--.”  He was cut off by a sudden flash of pain across his face.  In a matter of moments Thor was at his side, and even Loki had stepped forward as the older man forced himself to sit down, complaining to Thor that he was fine.  His son simply worried too much.  Natasha watched as his hand, the one holding to his staff, seemed to move in slow motion, trailing a similar golden dust to the one that had covered Loki before, to the covering over the man’s bed as he slept and renewed himself.  

He was stressing himself far too much, and if he wasn’t careful he’d push himself back into another sleep.  

What an absolute shame that would be.  

Dutifully, Natasha remained silent, watching as the two men situated their father with care back on his throne, before the Allfather’s eyes fixed on Natasha once again.  “Leave us,” he demanded.  “I will have words with my sons and not you.”  

Natasha clenched her jaw, quickly weighing the risks and benefits to ignoring the man’s order.  It might get her in trouble, but she didn’t want him to think that she could be so easily pushed around. Not by him, not anymore.  Thor and Loki loved her, would defend her, no matter what Odin wanted, and so she took her time leaving, kissing Loki on the lips, before turning to press her lips to Thor, and without bowing again she turned on her heel to leave.  Let him make of that what he wanted, it didn’t matter to her.  Outside Frigga was waiting, and her smile was dipped in sadness when Natasha came to join her.  

“My queen,” Nat bowed slightly.  “Thank you for alerting us that the Allfather was awake once more.”  It had been most illuminating to hear him berate her and his sons over andover again, after all. Frigga seemed to recognize the sass and just chuckled.  

“I do not mean this to sound as a threat, but I would watch your tongue if I were in your position.  Engaged to be married publically you might be, but the Allfather does not take well to those who he considers to be a threat.  And Natasha you are a threat.”  

“He shouldn’t have destroyed my planet and my home,” Nat muttered, though the last words of Frigga’s stuck out.  Odin saw her as a threat?  Interesting.  Again, a wave of gratitude towards the woman she served flooded Nat. If not for her she would’ve likely been dead already.  

“His past actions are neither here nor there.  I am telling you this to try and help you,” Frigga said stiffly, her eyes hardening, telling Natasha that she ought to pay more attention.  It shut her right up.  “Now.  We have a few other arrangements to be made about your wedding and I would appreciate it if you would come with me to help decide.  And your final gown fitting is this evening as well.”  Frigga’s eyes turned quickly to Natasha’s stomach, as though anticipating the telltale swell of her stomach, making Nat cover her abdomen with her arms, cheeks aflame.  A child would secure her place at Loki’s side, ensure she was untouchable.  

But was she willing to bring a child into a realm where the king already hated her, and their position in the world was a constant worry on Natasha’s mind?  Absolutely not.  

But there would be time to talk about the future, and she would prefer to do that with Loki and Thor at her side, and so instead focused on what Frigga was saying about how to run the house.  It would be Natasha’s responsibility as soon as Frigga was satisfied teaching her, and though it was not ideal she was sure she would somehow find another to delegate the tasks to as she continued training, unwilling to give up on her place as a warrior.  She’d been out of the arena for far too long as it was, and the last thing she wanted was to go soft, to forget her conditioning that she’d worked so hard for, shed so much blood, both her own and others, for.  

“How is your magic coming along?  Loki is still teaching you, yes?’  Frigga asked as she opened the doors in front of them with a wave of her hand, as though it were the simplest thing in the world, when Nat knew it required far more concentration and sheer will power than she could’ve ever imagined.  Magic, no matter what her blood or Loki said, never seemed to come easy for her.  She’d learned quite a lot in the past few days all of them helpful tools, though her attention always resided within the more powerful spell books, the ones with defensive incantations, ones to put up wards and shields, and ones to attack with.  Loki told her it would take centuries to get to that point, but every now and then she would page through them and pretend it all made sense.  The language was still coming to her rather slowly.  

“Yes my queen.  He is an excellent teacher.”  Natasha said, pulling herself from the memories, feeling the familiar heat rise within her right wrist, as though the magic could sense she was talking about it.  Which, she wouldn’t have been surprised if it could.  The way Loki referred to it was as a living entity almost, and it fascinated her.  Was it possible?  

“I am glad to hear it.  Has he taught you how to create duplicates of yourself?”  She asked, smiling.  “That was always his favorite trick.”  

Taught her?  No.  Demonstrated?  More than once.  She shivered at the memory but shook her head.  “He doesn’t think I’m quite ready yet.  He has shown me how to manipulate fire, though I can’t create it as Loki can, how to summon and use earth and air, even how to call small objects to me from across a room, but little else.  He says I’m coming along well but the rest takes far more time.”  

Frigga’s smile wasn’t one that Natasha had ever seen on the woman before, something of a mix between exasperated fondness and sorrow, a strange cocktail of emotion to be sure that set Nat on edge to wonder what Loki had done to earn such a reaction.  “He’s so secretive of his own arts,” she murmured.  “He can’t see that there’s always been more to it than that.”  

Ah, so there it was, and Natasha reached out to take Frigga’s hand in her own.  Amazing how she and Loki could be married and he was still so self conscious of being thrown aside.  Damn Odin for his favoritism; it went deeper than even the Allfather had been able to consider.  

They stepped into one of the smaller halls of the palace and once more Natasha had menus and color swatches placed in front of her, demanding her attention and opinion as she and Frigga attempted to finish up the final details.  There was only a month left until the official ceremony, and the queen was still going through the names of all those who Natasha would meet, providing brief snippets of information about them, so that when Natasha met them there would not be an awkward lull in conversation.  Just in case.  After that they moved on to the ceremonial rituals that would take place, the exchanging of vows, rings, and blood--though Natasha had looked taken aback by this, Frigga assured her it was only symbolic.  Next came what would be expected of her that night, the bedding ceremony itself--not that she and Loki were unfamiliar with one another, at which Frigga smirked.  Natasha’s head felt like it was splitting by the time the running on the other side of the great doors caught her attention, and her attention perked up at the sound of it.  What the hell was going on?  

The knock on the door had Frigga and Natasha pause, the latter rising only to be stopped by the Allmother. “You pick out the flowers and I will see what is so important,” she murmured.  Natasha gritted her teeth but knew it was for the best.  She couldn’t be seen, as the future princess and wife to the advisor, as having far too much knowledge or power else those around her think she was an influence on her husband and blame her for the shortcomings.  

If she’d have known it would’ve been this big a pain in the ass to stay on Asgard and get married, that it would come with all the baggage and rules, all the intrigue and political nonsense, she would’ve told Loki and Thor that she wanted them to all stay on Midgard.  

Earth.  She really had to stop thinking of it as Midgard.  

Frigga’s voice was edged with worry, though her words were muted as Natasha pretended to mull over rose colors--who knew they came in so many?--taking the flower petals between her fingers and feeling the earth energy smolder beneath her fingertips.  She drew on it slowly, pulling it into her body to try and extend her hearing, to try and use the air as a method that words could travel on.  Though she felt the exchange in power, felt the petal begin to shrivel under her touch, she could hardly hear anything past something about problems on Midgard, a resistance rising due to the failure of the convergence.  

‘Of course.’  She’d given credence to the idea that the Allfather, and the Aesir, could be stopped. She’d ensured that their reign and power was questioned, and if she--one who was not a part of the royal family to the knowledge of the populace, who would have seemed for all intents and purposes ordinary--could stop them, then what was holding the others back?  Odin had run the world on fear and bribery, promising the world and strength in return for simple obedience.  Those who had nothing to lose would follow blindly on, but those who didn’t?  Natasha had just given them a reason to fight.  

There were super humans involved as well, said the man at the door.  Her heart sank.  Tony and Clint and Bruce--what would happen to them?  She knew that they were none too fond of Odin and what he had planned, couldn’t stand the idea of the alteration of the timestreams so that they lasted longer than they should have.  Were they fighting back?   Before Tony had mentioned something about a team called The Avengers.  What was it they were avenging, their freedom?  

Steve had to be told.  They’d gone back to Midgard--Earth, dammit--before the Allfather had woken up so that he might see what had happened to the world they once knew.  His reaction was as pained as hers, perhaps even more so because they were in his home town, where he’d once grown up, but sure enough he’d hit it off with the others fairly quickly.  He would need to be warned about what was going to happen, and if possible Natasha needed to make a case for the safety of each of those men.  They’d taken her in rather than turning her ass into the police and back up to Asgard, it was the very least that she could do.  

Whatever else was said Natasha missed, and she finally decided on the deep yellow for the rose color just as Frigga was coming back to her seat.  

“You might meet with the boys sometime soon,” she said, her words almost nonchalant if they didn’t strike a chord in Natasha’s chest.  Frigga wouldn’t be telling her that for her health--something else was going on, and as Natasha rose to swiftly excuse herself, walking as quickly as she dared from the room, she felt her stomach drop.  What more would they be made to endure at the hand of the Allfather and his ideas of justice and law?  

 

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” Natasha asked as she watched Thor pacing in front of her, Loki seated at the desk in his elder sibling’s room.  After Frigga had hinted that Nat wanted to speak with the pair of them she’d raced down the halls only to find Thor already packing his belongings and Loki looking impassively on at the blond.  The explanation had been brief, simply because they didn’t know much about what was going on themselves: there were rebels attacking Aesir encampments, as there always had been in the past, but these were far more than just humans with torches and guns.  These were mutants.  They called themselves The Brotherhood, and sought to release themselves from their oppressors. While Nat agreed to some extent, she didn’t want Thor going alone, with minimal back-up from the few guards Odin was willing to spare. The ass.  

“Father believes that if the people of Midgard see that their prince is coming to help with the situation, then they will be more willing to aid should Asgard need them.”  Thor murmured to her, stopping what he was doing to press his lips to Natasha’s forehead.  “I will be back before you know it.”  

“And if you’re not?  You’re going to miss the wedding.”  It was a last ditch effort to get him to stay, to defy what the Allfather had said, to think for himself.  His grimace told her he knew, and the seconds longer connection between himself and Loki told her that he wasn’t complaining.  

Damn.  Well, at least she tried.  She embraced him tightly before either of the others could get another word in, trying not to frown as she tipped her head up to kiss him hard on the lips.  "Don't let your father make you feel like you're expendable," she murmured in his ear.  "He's done that all his life with Loki, don't let him turn it on you now.  You're needed here," she promised him.  "I need you here."  

Thor's smile was wide and slow to come to its full light, but when it did Nat felt herself swoon a little bit, knees going slightly weak.  They both had the ability to do that to her, the silly idiots.  

"I am glad to be needed, my lady," he promised her before kissing her brow, pulling away only after he squeezed her one last time, as though committing the way she felt to memory.  "Take care of her, Loki," he said with the quickest dip of his head to his brother.  The dark haired man nodded.  

"You be safe as well," Loki insisted.  "I need someone here to keep the both of us in line and to remind me what I'm fighting for."  

Thor shared a laugh with him at that, grabbing his things in a small sack and heading out to Midgard.  Natasha couldn't help but wonder, aside from the stint a month or so ago, when the last time he'd been back was, and just whether or not he'd be prepared for whatever threats they faced.  

When he was gone, the door shutting loudly behind him, she turned immediately to Loki.  "Is there any chance I can get a message to Tony Stark and the others?" She asked.  "I want to know what's going on with this Brotherhood."  

Loki kept his silence long enough to let Natasha know he didn't think it was a good eye.  She didn't care, wanting too much to know what Thor was going to be facing than caring about just how strong he thought her.  He'd seen her at work before, and if he considered her to be at less than her best simply because she was worried, well, then he obviously hadn't learned his lesson the first time around.  They'd fix that.  

"I'll do my best though it might be difficult," he admitted.  "And it may take a day or so to find the proper spell. I've never had to do it before."  

She gave him the most grateful smile she could manage before planting herself in his lap and fusing their mouths together.  

"What would I do without you?" She murmured only after she pulled away to breathe.  He just laughed, and though the noise was hollow she squeezed his hand and locked gazes.  She meant it, and he pressed his lips to her forehead to let her know he appreciated it.  

 


	2. Beyond Here Lies Nothin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurray a new chapter! Sorry that it's so short, but I wanted to get it out ASAP, and the next one should [ideally] be lengthy, so I'll try and get it out soon =]

Nat tried to keep her mind off of what Thor was doing, did her very best to concentrate on the wedding and the planning that went along with it, what with less than a month until the day would be there.  In order to try and assuage her fears she'd gone to speak with Steve about what had happened, to let him know what the others on Midgard were thinking and doing, but the man had already been pulled away for duty, along with Sif and the Warriors Three.  She'd taken their absence as a bad sign--an incredibly bad sign.  If Odin cared enough to send a good portion of his best fighters then the threat was much worse than she’d initially thought.  As though she hadn’t had enough to worry about as it was.  It kept her up at night, she had to admit, her fingers drumming on the sides of the bed as Loki curled himself around her, one arm wrapped tight around her and his own mind far more at ease than she’d thought possible.  How was it he didn’t care about what was going on?  He could deny it all he wanted but she’d seen the way he’d watched Thor’s back, even since the episode on Midgard, as though he was convinced he needed to protect him no matter what, and even if he wouldn’t ascend to the throne, it didn’t mean he didn’t care about what happened to the realms.  Should anything terrible have happened they would be his responsibilities to shoulder, but more than that there were already rumors that he was being cuckolded by Thor, and though partially true he didn’t enjoy the opinion of him having dropped so quickly.  

“What in the nine realms could have you so distracted?” Loki asked one evening as Nat struggled, being put through her paces with the illusion charm he was teaching her.  She was supposed to be focusing on making the goblet in front of her solid, rather than the gaseous one that kept dissolving whenever Loki moved to put his hand near it. _‘Dammit.’_

“I’m worried,” she confessed.  “I haven’t been to Midgard since--well, you know.”  She knew he hated bringing it up, not liking to be reminded of what was considered a failure of his, though they both knew it was Natasha Odin prefered to punish.  He’d done his best to in the past few days, parading soldiers in front of her, all of whom had been given specific orders to stay quiet on all matters of Midgard when around her.  Meanwhile she’d been stuck discussing fabric choices for the tablecloths at her wedding, those for the guests of honor, her own table, and those around them.  As if it really mattered whether it was silk or satin.  She’d strain her hearing for the slightest whisper of what was happening, only to hear nothing new, and certainly nothing encouraging.  More men seemed to be sent out each week, leading Natasha to wonder what the hell this Brotherhood had unleashed.  

“I am certain Midgard is fine,” Loki assured her quietly, resting a hand on her shoulder as he bent to kiss her lips.  She accepted it, though didn’t reciprocate, her mind too focused on what could possibly be going on down in the other realms.  Not only did she worry for Thor and his safety, but the other Avengers that she’d met.  Steve.  Sif and the others.  Her body ached to be on the battlefield with them, wherever that might’ve been and whatever they might’ve been doing.  She wanted to save her home, to make sure no further harm came to--.

Her runes burned, again.  A reminder.  She couldn’t focus on the past, not again.  Idly she rubbed them, looking down at the three.  A fourth had started to materialize as she began to learn more magic, though neither she or Loki could make out what one it was, and she sighed quietly to herself.  With so many things up in the ir how the hell was she supposed to focus on anything?  Let alone her magic, or her upcoming wedding?  She only half listened as Loki tried explaining to her what she was doing wrong with the illusion charm, but only managed to mess it up.  Again.  Dammit.  

“I’m sorry,” she confessed when he sat down opposite her, his brow furrowed.  “I don’t mean to be so absent minded.  I am trying, really,” she promised, taking his hand and squeezing it.  “Just maybe . . . maybe not tonight?”

“Natasha your magic needs to be strengthened.  Should anything happen and I am unable to help you, your magic has to suffice on its own, has to be able to keep you safe,” he murmured.  She caught the slight shift of his eyes and she sat up a little straighter to survey him.  What was he keeping from her, and why?  She knew him to be secretive, tricky, and a liar to most everyone else around him, but to Natasha and Frigga?  Well, Nat liked to think he told the truth nine times out of ten, and the tenth only being in a life or death situation where he kept the truth to himself.  

As if any of this was helping her nerves.  She reached forward to fuse her lips hard to his, cupping the side of his face to force him to stay with her.  Not that he was fighting her, of course, too eager to kiss her back, to try and distract her.  Between them, she felt their magic fizzle, a gasp leaving her mouth as his teeth grazed her bottom lip, but though he might try to distract her she couldn’t stop the sensation clawing at her stomach that there was something very, very wrong with this situation.  Even as Loki bit her jaw gently and murmured in her ear how much he loved her, the feeling was impossible to shake, and though he sat her in his lap she pushed away not long afterwards, needing a breath of fresh air.  He looked hurt for the quickest of moments, but nodded and turned away to one of the books they’d been studying from.  He’d be angry for a little while but she knew he’d get over it that evening.  

The seasons had begun to change, thanks to the change in time, and the brisk air on Natasha’s face felt like heaven as she breathed in the scent of autumn, the season coming creeping into the Asgardian’s summer.  She would be glad to see the latter go, finding the heat too suppressing, much like the presence of the Allfather himself, and often choked in the daytime on the humidity and rising temperatures that sapped her strength.  How she’d managed to push through it as a warrior would forever be a mystery to her, but perhaps she’d let herself go too soft, too used to relaxing and not fighting.  

But what she really wanted?  A Russian winter, where the wind was cold enough to freeze your tears to your face and the snow cut your eyes as easily as glass, and though the nights could be treacherous she’d never found a better time than that spent hunkered down in the snow, staring at what few stars she could see above her, either the forest blocking the sight or else the few lights from the city.  She missed language dancing on her tongue, harsh and glottal and tasting of home, the slush that collected in the corners of the streets, soaking her feet if she wasn’t careful to watch where she stepped.  Idly she felt her magic burning as it pooled in her hands, and she breathed deep, wondering.  Could she do it again?  

The last time she’d traveled to Midgard had been a mistake, an accident brought on by a dangerous situation.  But now, in control, a better master at the use of magic, could she try it again?  Go back to Russia?  It would only be a little while, she reasoned with herself as she closed her eyes and tried to picture it in all its glory: the worn streets, the bright snow on the pavement, riddled with footprints, the way the snow seemed to catch all the light that streamed from the shops and street lamps.  

_Home._

For half a second she expected to feel the cold wind whipping against her, tearing the breath from her lungs and making her eyes leak with the harsh sting.  She expected to feel cold snowflakes flying against her face, to hear mothers babbling on to their children in quick Russian or else arguing with their husbands.  

Nothing.  She opened her eyes to see nothing, as though the world had gone black around her.  Her heart jumped into her throat, unable to hear anything as well.  What the hell had she done?  

Stars.  There were stars there, and she concentrated on them as she tried to take a step, to move slowly through the black space she’d been dropped into.  She tried not to think about how the laws of gravity, matter, physics, any of that would work, and when she stepped forward the . . . air beneath her felt solid.  Strong enough for her, at least, and she stepped through the darkness with ease, her gown floating behind her slowly.  

“He’s getting close my lord Titan,” a raspy voice said, sounding distant, words nearly too muffled to understand.  “Soon he will find the staff.”

“Excellent.  Is there any threat of his companions?”  This voice was dangerously low, all the more terrifying for it, as though it was coming from the bowels of hell itself.

“None.  And should they touch it as well then they, too, will be a pox upon the Midgardians.  It is as you foretold.”

Natasha hardly dared to breathe, her eyes wide and hands covering her mouth as she listened.  Who was getting close to the staff?  What was going to happen to everyone on Earth, and who the hell was it talking?  She kept turning, trying to look around and find the two speaking.  Nothing came up, nothing came from the darkness besides the stars.  

And those were going out one by one.  She opened her mouth.  Did she dare making a noise and alerting the other two to her presence?  Or was she brave enough to face the pitch black?  She braced herself, standing her ground and screwing up her eyes.  

_‘Asgard.  Asgard--ASGARD!’_

Nothing happened, nothing changed.  The stars continued to fade one by one, and everything in front of her began to fade away as well, the voices of the two men--or creatures--now talking about the second prince and his part to play.  They made it sound as though he was simply a pawn, though she couldn’t hear anything else.  Without any idea what to do next, Nat turned on her heels and started running, the voices behind her fading to a low hum as she screamed until her throat was raw, calling for Loki, for Heimdall, anyone.

The darkness crept closer, touching her heels and pulling her by them, forcing her to her knees as it began to swallow her whole--.

“Natasha!  Wake up!”  Loki was shaking her, his own voice muted and fearful.  “Natasha--you’re fine.  You’re safe.  Wake up darling.”

With a shuddering gasp Nat’s eyes opened and she sat upright, nearly smacking her forehead into Loki’s with the movement.  The familiar surroundings of their room met her skittish eyes, the desk littered with letters to the foreign dignitaries she had yet to send, the half drank tea in the mug by their bed.  Loki, pale and drawn looking beside her, one hand on her shoulder the other taking her wrist in his, feeling her pulse she was sure.  But how did she get back?  

She must’ve verbalized her question because Loki answered: “You passed out when you went out for air, dear.  I brought you back in here when you didn’t wake, thinking that you had just worn yourself out too much from the magic.  I’m sorry,” he said, kissing her cheek and holding her close.  He felt it, too, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything but what she’d heard.  A dream?  Was it possible?  

“I saw--I heard--,” she stuttered, for once out of words, her mind still reeling.  What the hell was happening to her?  Her whole body trembled, and as she dipped her head down to hide it in her hands, drawing breath into shaky lungs.  Dream or not she had to tell him.  Had to let him know.  What was happening to Midgard?

“There were two voices.  They were talking about Midgard--about someone finding a staff.  About companions releasing a pox onto the planet,” she was babbling and she knew it, but Loki had gone very still beside her, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.  

“Did they say what type of staff?” He asked, apparently past disbelief.  Good.  It made it easier.  She shook her head and he sighed.  “Just that one of them--the one with a booming voice, a voice like death--had foretold what was going to happen.”  She gulped huge lungfuls of air, but the shaking never stopped, the panting never slowed.  “And they talked about a second son.  About a sacrifice that will bring the end.  Of Midgard.”  Now her eyes turned up to Loki, her eyes wide and filled with fear.  She watched as the fear blossomed in his gaze, too, and without question he rose and clothed himself and Natasha.  

“We need to speak with the Allfather,” he said, opening the door and ushering her through, calling for a servant to wake Odin and Frigga.  This couldn’t wait.  

 


	3. The Weight of these Lover's Eyes

They were left waiting in the throne room for a few minutes, Natasha shaking like a leaf as she stared out at the stars through the large, raised windows.  They were still there, not moving.  Not exploding.  That was a good sign.  What if her dream was just that--a dream?  She could only hope so, but something about the way the goosebumps that pebbled her skin didn't go away told her it couldn't possibly just be a dream, just a fantasy.  And how had she conjured it up with her magic when all she'd wanted to do was go home?  

_'Unless the two are directly connected.'_

She was going to be sick, and Loki seemed to know it, coming immediately to her side with a frown, a hand finding her shoulder and holding her for a moment.  

"Hey, you don't need to be afraid of him," he assured her.  "This is important.  The Allfather needs to know about your vision."  And she could see, the way his eyes watched her, that he knew she was holding something from him.  She swallowed hard, audibly, as she leaned in to kiss him quickly, but the doors opened just as their lips touched so that the couple sprang apart like two chastised children.  

Natasha didn't think she'd ever seen Odin so weary looking, his face drawn tight as he watched the two, pulling his robe around the tunic and soft bronze trousers he wore, Frigga coming behind him in a more presentable nightgown, lips set in a confused, hard line.  

"What is the matter?" Odin asked, skipping straight to the point.  At least it could be said he didn't waste time when it mattered.

Loki took Natasha's hand and put quick pressure on it, helping her steel her nerves she didn't know she'd nearly lost, before she stepped forward.  

"I think I had a vision," she said, voice quiet enough that Odin had to step even closer to hear.  Clearing her throat, she launched into the explanation, of how she'd been trying to go home because she was once more feeling homesick, about the way she'd stood among the stars and heard the two voices--the one servile, the other dark as a sky before a hurricane--and the way that the stars had exploded and left her surrounded by pure blackness.  All the while Odin said nothing, keeping his one good eye on her, and his gaze darkened all the while, the news obviously not what he'd been expecting.  

Natasha's throat felt dry when she finished, coughing quietly, before Frigga pressed a goblet of water into her hands, rubbing her back as she drank it.  

"Odin, what does it mean?" The queen asked quietly, disguising with years of practice the tremor of uncertainty that Natasha felt thrum in her body.  "A premonition, or a discussion she managed to somehow step into?"  

"You saw nothing of what these two figures looked like?" He asked, ignoring Frigga's question.  Nat shook her head, not liking how his face darkened further.  What?  Wasn’t that to be expected if she couldn’t even tell where the hell she was?  Apparently not, and he turned away from her with a certain look at his wife that couldn’t have boded well.  Natasha inhaled sharply.  

“What’s wrong?” She asked, stepping closer, the now empty goblet of water still clutched tight in her hand.  “My king.  What--what does it mean?”  She hated to beg, hated to have to ask in order to try and glean some kernel of truth, but he didn’t look as though he was going to tell her otherwise, and she couldn’t handle not knowing.  Not when it dealt with her home.   Loki didn’t say a word at her side, simply gazing at his adoptive parents with an unknowable look, so devoid of emotion that not even Natasha could read it.  He had to have been as surprised as she was, right?  About what had happened?  Or was he cross with her for trying to go back to Midgard without having asked him first?  

Well, what choice did she have when they were unable to get a message out to Tony and the other Avengers about what to expect?  

And still Odin said nothing to them, his feet heavy as his shoulders, which slumped forward as he paced back and forth, eyes cast on the ground.  No one said a word while he walked, his lips moving through no sound came from them, Natasha able to see his eye skittering back and forth over the marble surface as though hoping to find the truth in the carvings on the floor.  When nothing appeared, and no one said anything after what felt like hours, Natasha cleared her throat.  

“Allfather--.”

“I warned you, did I not, that there were powers outside your grasp and knowledge that would come to into play, would threaten everything that I and my forefathers have worked for?” He snarled, shutting her up as he turned to glower at her, whole body positively vibrating.  Again, she thought she saw the golden dust that had once covered him, left behind by the shaking of his body.  Nat felt her heart stop for half a second, words drying on her tongue, trying to process what he was saying as he continued to yell at her, berate her for her foolishness, then turn to Loki to do the same thing, telling them both what fools they had been, that whatever should happen was on their shoulders.  Nat’s chin tipped up a touch, forcing herself to keep from saying that had he stuck to his own realm rather than getting greedy they wouldn’t, any of them, have been in this situation, but it wasn’t the time or the place to bring up such truths.  No, now she needed answers, and though Odin was panting like a winded animal by the time his tirade was done, he looked very much worn down and resigned to whatever truth there might have been.  

“I know not what this pox these two spoke of, but I do believe I can make a safe assumption as to who the speakers were.  Thanos’ voice is recognizable by the tremor you felt pass through your body at his words.  He strikes fear into the best of us,” Odin admitted.  “His force and strength is formidable.  If, as it seems, he is to attack Midgard then there is far more at stake than a simple skirmish.”  He licked his lips, eye flicking to Frigga for half a second, considering her presence as well.  

“What is more, Thor has gone out of contact with us.”

Frigga’s gasp was echoed in the widening of Loki’s eyes and the step Natasha took forward, sure her knees might go weak at the news.  

“Sif and Steven have also gone missing, according to the report Fandral sent back this morning.”

“When were you going to tell me?” Loki demanded through clenched teeth.  

“Or me?” Frigga asked, her voice significantly lower but all the more emotional.  Natasha stayed quiet for once, her heart icing over at the thought.  What could possibly have happened to the three of them, the strongest, best warriors Asgard had to offer?  

“What is more Heimdall cannot see either of them.” Odin said with a heavy sigh, his head dropping down as he clenched his hands into fists, knuckles white at his side.  “I have sent more of the Einherjar to try and find the three, but until they return with news there is nothing more I can do, short of going myself.”  His gaze leveled for a brief moment with Natasha’s, before she could even open her mouth to volunteer to go down to look for him.  She should’ve known he’d see through that in an instant.  “And what with your upcoming wedding, neither of you can go.  Should anything happen to Thor, Loki, you are heir.  I expect you by my side from now on until such a time as you or I are needed elsewhere. Understood?”

“Yes, Allfather.”

Natasha had never heard him sound so compliant, well, not since she’d taken the reins once in the bedroom and had both he and Thor--.  That moment wasn’t the time for such thoughts.  She focused instead on the way he held his body tight, how he didn’t back down from Odin’s all seeing gaze, and how his adopted father nodded his agreement.  “We must make further peace with the Jotuns.  Loki, you will be instrumental in that.  Laufey may yet listen to you.”

That set the dark haired man’s jaw clenching tight, though he didn’t respond, and Natasha stepped closer to lay her hand on his shoulder for solidarity.  

“What of Thor?” Frigga murmured, still worried.  

Odin grew quiet and shook his head.  “My hands are tied.  Until word arrives to me that the Brotherhood of Mutants is behind this, that he has been found, or another comes forth to lay claim to whatever has happened I can find no other path to take.  We can only wait.  Huginn and Muninn are already down to Midgard, assuming he is still there with the others.  What is more, if Natasha’s dream is accurate, and the Titan has something to do with this disappearance, then we must prepare ourselves for an even greater siege.”  

He looked more exhausted than ever, Natasha thought, as he looked over to his wife, the pair of them sharing their grief in a short, contained burst.  Her hand sought his, and he seemed to try and reassure her as best he could, but the emotion made Natasha’s breath catch in her throat.  

“I am going to speak with Heimdall.  I wish to know what more he can do,” the queen finally said, smiling at her son and Natasha before skirting off, leaving Odin alone with the two before he eventually sent them off, saying he needed to catch up on what rest he could.  He doubted he’d find much in the time to come.  Nat agreed.  

Loki waited until the doors had shut in their chambers to let out the air he’d been holding.  “Why didn’t you tell me you’d tried to go to Midgard?”

“There wasn’t much time, was there, considering I woke back up here?” Natasha said, shooting him a glance as she started to undress, slipping the soft nightgown she’d been dressed in off her shoulders and letting it pool at her feet.  She didn’t care much about taking care of it from there, or doing anything else besides crawling into bed and letting the fear and worry consume her.  There wasn’t anything else to do about it, as Odin had said, and with their hands tied, without their magic being useful--.  If even Heimdall was blind to whatever was happening, then what good could Natasha’s weak skills with seidr be?  Or even Loki’s stronger ones?  Her husband moved into bed beside her soon after, chest vibrating with a similar concoction of emotions to Natasha’s, his bare chest cold against her back.  

“You should have told me,” he growled quietly.  “I wouldn’t have looked like an idiot in front of Odin for not saying.”

“What did it matter?  He named you heir apparent if . . . and he trusts you enough to see you make peace with Jotunheim, I don’t think it would have made even the slightest difference,” Natasha murmured, closing her eyes and trying not to think of the cold, empty blackness that had swallowed her up not an hour or so ago.  

“I wish you would have trusted me enough to tell me.”  

There it is.  Hidden in the bite of his words is the same self-conscienceness Natasha had been afraid of, the low self-worth that made his mind so toxic, and his words so hurtful even when he didn’t mean it.  She sighed, going boneless in his grip, and his hold loosened enough so she could shimmy around to face him and press a palm to his cheek.  

“I trust you.”

“Not enough,” he muttered.  “And you care more for Thor--.”

“I married you, Loki,” she cut him off, taking his jaw in her small hand to tell him she meant business, she was sincere.  He all but screamed his fear at the situation, at the uncertainty that plagued the both of them, in the gaze they shared, and she leaned closer to try and kiss some of it away.  To reassure him, at least, that she loved him, her tongue edging at his lips to part them and allow her to lick into his mouth, hand fisting at the back of his head in his hair.  He came alive under her fingertips, surging to meet her as she rolled him onto his back and positioned herself just over him.  A slight brush of his fingers to her skin was all it took and she was slick enough to take him into her, their bodies undulating and rolling together in a slow, passionate rhythm, trying to chase the fear and worries of the day away, to keep it from plaguing their minds.  Natasha lost herself in the quickness of his breathing, in the pulse she felt every time she brushed her lips against his throat, in her name on his lips as she pushed herself on and off him.  He found release in the scent of her, breathing her deep as she rode him, and the way she tightened her fingers on his hands, clinging to him for dear life.  Together they met the dawn bound together, crying out as they found release, voices broken and begging for help, for certainty in such terrifying, senseless times.  As ever, Loki took care of any chance of pregnancy with a quick spell, muttered into her hair like a promise.  

 

Two weeks later Thor was found, though it was not the Thor Natasha had ever come to know.  The Berserker who’d taken out half a dozen of Asgard’s finest warriors had no thought for those around him, the villages, cities, and metropolises standing in his way.  With Mjolnir at his side, and Sif and Steve in similar states of blood rage and battle glory, they’d already brought Oslo to the ground and were making their way wherever the wind decided to bring them.  

The news made Natasha drop the mug of water she’d been nursing early that morning, the water spilling over as she rushed to Loki to ask what the hell was going on.  He was paging furiously through a number of books in the library, brow drawn tight and fingers moving quick as Sleipnir's hooves, when Nat burst in.  

"Thor--."

"I know.  Help me look for a cure."  He said, offering her one of the huge stacks. She took it without question, a few of the words looking familiar as she made her way through the pages.  Loki showed her what she would be looking for, a certain spell to help the prince break out.  

"It's forcing him to recall all the moments in his life where he has known great pain and suffering, and he takes this out on those around him.  Sif and Steve are doing the same, according to reports, and they have moved out of Finland and are making their way through Western Europe," he murmured.  "Odin fears that this will only worsen the Midgardian opinion of the Asgardian.  It gives credence to the Brotherhood's ploy to pull Midgard away."

Natasha couldnt help but agree with the idea in theory, and bit the inside of her cheek.  Perhaps it was better that way; strategically it was genius, she knew.  To take the crown prince, his best friend, and a once-Midgardian symbol for freedom, and showing what they were capable of?  The fear would rip people apart, make them genuinely terrified of what else the Aesir could do, of what else the king could do on a whim.  And if Thor wasn't snapped out of it all, soon, well she shuddered to think what the Brotherhood would do to take matters into their own hands.  Loki seemed to be of the same mindset, and threw the last book he'd worked through tot he side.  It joined several others of a similar length and, by the looks of the title, subject.

"Unleashing the Berserker"

"Battle Tactics With the Berserker"

"Great Aesir Berserkers"

"Berserker Rage and Magic"

What was worse he still had a large pile to go through, and his heavy sigh was plain to Nat that he had little hope for getting through them any time soon.  She swallowed hard.  

"Isn't this a common thing?" She asked, quietly, looking up for half a second from her work, before flipping the page and running out of book.  She placed it to the side as well before grabbing another one.  "I mean, I've heard stories of the infamous battle rage of the Aesir. I'd have thought it would be something you all were familiar with."

"Familiar with, but we need to break them out of it quickly.  Was it anywhere else, or anyone else, we'd either have slain them or waited for them to snap themselves out.  It was not meant to be broken out of quickly; they usually last months, even if they simmer down a touch.  Years, given the change in time," he said with a quiet sigh.  "What is curious to me is what triggered it.  Perhaps a fight with this Brotherhood."

"Or the pox that my dream was talking about," Natasha murmured, her eyes wide.  "They said he was close-."

"Close to what, though?" He asked.  "Before we had warriors that would slip into the Berserker state on command and unleash them on our enemies.  The Jotuns, the Fire Demons, the Dark Elves.  But those tools are on Asgard, in a sealed vault should any seek to glorify themselves through slaughter.  Odin thought it more pertinent to ensure their conscience stayed with them should they desire to kill so freely."

Natasha nodded as she listened, biting her bottom lip.  It sounded like when she and Alexei would get sent out into the field, when Ivan needed something done, and done quickly.  No remorse, no second guessing.  Suddenly her insecurities rose in her throat.  How many times had she slaughtered without thinking of the consequences, of keeping her own conscience clean by validating it through following orders?

Aesir, yes, she'd killed as many of them as she could get her hands on.  But human?  She'd never considered it before, and the implication turned her stomach and soured her mouth.  

"Loki."  She reached a hand out to take one of his, watched him still beneath her touch.  He knew what she was going to say.  "I need to go to him.  It cannot wait any longer."

"Natasha he will kill you," Loki warned, his eyes darkening and body going tense, preparing for a fight.  His hand turned to take hers in it, squeezing hard. "Thor doesn't care about his family any more--our own mother could go to him and he'd use Mjolnir to bash her head in without a hesitation so long as she stood in front of him."

He sounded as though he'd seen it happen before, and though Natasha swallowed thickly she shook her head.  "No, Thor would never hurt me.  There's still a part of him that's him, right?  You said he's just feeding off of anger and fear from the past.  Well the best way to try and get him to break it would be to assuage his fear.  Right?  We can bring the others back--or freaking turn them on the Brotherhood, I don't care.  Well, I do."  She breathed heavily, but she didn't know anyway to bring Steve and Sif back.  Thor at least she had a shot with, and perhaps that would be the key to helping the other two. If anyone could take the brunt of it, it would be Thor.  "Besides, what other options do we have?  If Oslo and Gothenburg are already down, how long before the humans take matters into their own hand to save their own homes?  They've done it before."

She'd done it before.  

Loki deflated a touch, dipping his head, and she watched as the pressure began to make him quake.  "I will not lose you, Natasha.  I was terrified the first time that I would, and that had been of my own doing.  I will kill my brother if he tries to take you from me this time, Berserker or not.  Do you want that on your conscience?" He asked, voice going deadly quiet.  It was enough to give Natasha pause.  

"You didn't listen to me before, and look at how that turned out," she reminded him quietly.  "And I don't want the death of millions on my conscience, either, and that's what we're looking at if we don't do something.  Isn't it?"

His silence was enough to let her know she was right.  

"The wedding--."

"Is in a handful of days, yes, but what can you expect from your allies if they see that you cannot subdue your own brother?"

"It doesn't matter--we cannot cancel and we cannot reschedule it.  Odin is looking for a reason to get rid of you, do not give him one," Loki insisted.  

"And your brother is going to keep killing, no matter what," she argued.  "If you want to be king, Loki, you need to look at what is best for your people, not for you.  Your visitors will understand that, and respect you for the difficult call."

Again the silence held between the both of them, during which Natasha did her best to keep his gaze, even as he went sightless in front of her, retreating to his inner thoughts.  One of her hands stretched up to cup the side of his face . "I love you, Loki.  And I love Thor.  Let me help you both by doing this."

He gave a small smile, though his heart wasn't in it and didn't meet his eyes, as he pressed closer to her hand.  "It's no womder Thor wants you by his side.  You make us show our best," he murmured quietly.  Natasha just gave him a weak smile. "The wedding is in four days.  We will send more Einherjar to subdue them as best we can, to slow them down, and if that does nothing then after the wedding we will go to Midgard together.  I cannot call off this wedding, Natasha, nor do I have any inclination to.  I want the Allfather to see that you are here to stay," he murmured.  "And that he cannot touch you.  I want the nine realms to see that you are my wife and that I love you with all of my heart before I allow you to go to my brother."

"Allow me?" She growled, pulling away.  

He winced. "Poor wording, but this is what you do to me, Natasha.  You make me want to protect you, to do what's best, to keep you hidden away so that nothing will come to hurt you.  Can't you see that?" He asked, frowning.  "You make me tongue-tied.  Me."  

She let herself smile but kept a wary eye on him.  That wasn't a simple slip of the tongue; Loki never did anything if not for a reason, and though she would defend him until her breath stopped, she feared what his own worries would do to him, what his self-conscience tendencies would do if she left for Thor.  

He would have to find a way to deal with it, though.  She was not about to abandon Thor, or her people to his ill-timed rage, no matter how strongly she felt for Loki.  One of them, it seemed, had to step up.  Nonetheless she agreed to his terms, dipping her head to allow him to kiss her forehead before she went back to looking through the books.  She was only given so much free time before being called away for wedding plans once more.  She was beginning to despise them.  

"Oh, and Natasha?" Loki called out.  She turned.  "My father will be there at the wedding.  Laufey."  He looked as though he's swallowed a pint of vinegar.  "Which means I'll have to introduce you to him.  And my true brothers."  

If he was expecting fear, or anger at the words he got neither.  She simply smiled and dipped her head.  "I look forward to meeting them, my darling," she said quietly, before turning to leave.  

_'Shit.'_

 

The morning of her wedding dawned bright and pink-skied, and though she was assured it was a good sign, she'd heard too many Midgardian sayings about pink skies in the morning and taking warning.  Perhaps, in Asgard, it was not the same, but this wedding had her stressed enough as it was so she supposed it was no surprise for an ominous premonition to appear in such a fashion.  

It wasn't the time to think of that, she reminded herself, though the worries played in the back of her mind all through her bath, even as the servants worked at the knots in her shoulders and upper back, even as the scent of lavender and roses filled her nostrils from the oils they added to the water.  She fretted as they washed her hair, each of them telling her there was nothing to be afraid of, that the ceremony was going to be gorgeous, and she let them assume her worries stemmed from the wedding.  Why burden them with ill-news and premonitions?  

The dress was gorgeous, as she knew it would be.  They’d been at the seamstress’s more times than she wished to remember, she and Frigga having gone back and forth about the design of the dress they’d wanted, the queen insisting it had to be as lavish as possible while Natasha, ever the practical one, preferred it to be something she could at least move in.  The managed to settle on was strapless, and pale gold in color, with a deeper,  gold bustier that protected Natasha’s waist and upper torso, the metal accessory meeting around the back and forcing her to stand all the taller for it, as if the corset underneath didn’t help with that, her breasts practically pushed up to her chin.  She didn’t know she was trying to entice every other man in the hall.  The dress clung to her hips and backside, flaring out mid-upper thigh, and the train was ridiculous, making the dress all the heavier for it, saying nothing for the long, extravagant cloak that fastened to the back of her dress, the similar colored fabric connecting to her dress just below the shoulders, leaving her arms bare.  She had to admit that the craft that had gone into the gold bodice was gorgeous, the detailing so well done it almost seemed to come alive when she moved, and what was more it matched up with the delicate bead work that covered her hips, the yellow sapphires, she imagined, had cost a damn fortune.  Not that Asgard didn’t have it in spades, supposedly, but as pretty as it was it was far too grand for what Nat would ever have wanted.  

Her hair was slowly piled atop her head, her curls tamed enough to braid, and the thick red strands were weaved around her whole head, to her amazement.  She wasn’t allowed to watch what the maids were doing, though the way they were twisting and turning her hair could suggest nothing else, and the excess hair was pulled into a sort of knot, she guessed, at the back of her head, before green emeralds and more yellow sapphires were placed strategically in her red locks.  She would be dripping gems by the end of the evening if she wasn’t careful.  They kept her from looking at the mirror all the while, and as she slowly shifted the dress around, and stepped into the burnished gold heels they’d set out for her, she wondered if the color wasn’t a bit much.  Though it was the Asgardian way, she supposed as she fiddled with the wedding band already on her finger, as the maids brought forth the last jewels she’d be wearing.  The Queen’s jewels, borrowed for the ceremony, though they made Natasha nervous as all get out, even though she knew it was a great honor that Frigga trusted her so.  She’d made the decision without Odin’s consent, which only was more dangerous for the both of them, and Nat tried not to think of a noose as the heavy diamonds were brought around her neck, clinging tight to her collarbone before trickling downwards, the largest resting just before it hit her breasts.  With a bit of magic they looked green for the ceremony, glinting brightly, and only after Natasha’s makeup was done, her earrings in place, and a biteful or two of food and several sips of wine later, was she allowed to look in the mirror.  

But it couldn’t be herself staring back.  She looked more like a statue in the gold, magicked alive for the ceremony, the gemstones catching the light coming in from the high windows causing them to wink happily at her, to remind her to smile.  She was getting married!  Officially, at least.  

Her stomach didn’t seem to get the message, the wine thickening her breath in her throat as she tried to find words to describe her thanks, but her silence seemed to be enough for them all.  The servants were all misty eyed, and when Frigga stepped inside to check how they were doing even she stopped, jaw-dropping, to see Natasha turn back and smile at her.  

“What do you think?” Natasha asked, voice muted as she turned on the small stool she’d been brought to stand on, smiling at the queen.  The woman gave the quietest of gasps, and Natasha watched with a shaky smile as tears started in the queen’s eyes.  

"You are absolutely radiant," Frigga said as she stepped closer.  She would be walking her daughter-in-law down the large aisle, while Odin would be standing at the front with Loki, officiating the ceremony as the Allfather was responsible for doing.  Natasha was grateful for it, though she couldn't imagine how the both of them were going to get through it in one piece if they were both so weepy.  

"How do you feel in it?" Frigga asked, reaching out to reposition the bustier gently, wiping off invisible dust from the fabric.  

"Amazing," Natasha answered, as honest as she could be.  She gave a quiet laugh.  "I don't know how to say thank you enough.  This is truly gorgeous and far much more than I--."

"Hush," Frigga smiled.  "You are beloved of my sons, and worthy of their affection, and more than worthy of such beautiful things."  She said with a chuckle, moving her hand to cup Natasha's chin.  "Rejoice, Natasha.  Today is your day."  She leaned up to press her lips to the redhead's forehead, and Nat felt tears of her own well up in her eyes, threatening to roll down her cheeks.  Oh Hel, she was supposed to get through this how?  

"Don't make me cry," she teased, trying to laugh to make herself feel better, and Frigga joined in.  

"I'm sorry my darling.  It's almost time," she promised, already hearing the telltale signs of the music that would accompany Natasha down the aisle as she moved to meet her husband.  

"Are you ready?" Frigga asked as they took their place at the large double doors, the walk having been blessedly a short one from the room they had gotten Natasha ready in to the hall.  Nat nodded quickly, breathing deep to steady herself.  She could do this.  They were already married, after all.  It wasn't as though they could get unmarried.  Right?

"Frigga?" She couldn't help but ask quietly.  "There's no way the Allfather could undo--."

"No, darling.  Your marriage is iron clad.  I oversaw it myself, this is simply a formality," she assured her with dip of her head.  "Besides, if Odin were to call off your wedding he would have Hel to pay for calling all the other dignitaries out for nothing."  

Oh, there was that.  Thank goodness.  It helped to ease a touch of Natasha's nerves, but there was still the whole--.

The doors in front of them opened and Natasha had to close her eyes to try and calm herself.  She could do this.  Marriage, that was all it was.  Just amped up a little.  The hall was filled to bursting with people of all sizes, shapes, and colors.  There were the tall Jotuns, placed near the head of the room, the tallest of which was decked in jade and furs and gold that Natasha could see even from the back of the hall, his red eyes turning immediately to Natasha.  'Laufey.'  On the other side, some seats back, were what looked like fire demons.  All of Asgard had turned up, it seemed, as well as those from Vanaheim, a dark elf or two from Svartalfheim, and--.

Tony grinned at her when she passed, holding his thumbs up, making her nearly choke on a surprised laugh.  How he'd gotten picked, of all of them, well, she supposed she'd have to find out later.  Now her gaze turned to her husband, standing at the head of the room, his eyes wide and pupils blown as he watched her walk towards him, his jaw dropping.  She felt her cheeks blush, watching as his back straightened, the golden helm on his head catching the light from the large windows, his golden armor glinting with it as he held his hands behind his back, the long green cape, green as his eyes, swallowing them.  His outfit was simple, black, leather trousers with minimal detailing, high boots, and the true work of art the armor on his chest, Nat able to see the fine detailing of a serpent and wolf coming together in what looked almost like battle, a wolf's head rising from his shoulder in gold attaching to the rest of it.  He looked stunning, gorgeous even, and she felt light headed as she grew closer.  He extended his hands out, and Nat grinned to see them shake, before Frigga deposited Natasha's in his, kissing both of their foreheads, before moving to sit next to Hela, Loki's daughter, at the very front row.  

Odin stepped up from the his seat on the throne where he'd been watching the proceedings, and he smiled as he looked at the both of them.  For once, Natasha thought, he didn't seem to be faking it.  

"You look incredible," Loki leaned to Natasha and whispered.  "Absolutely--like a vision, my darling," he said, sounding more tongue-tied than Nat had ever heard him in her life.  She grinned, giggling at the compliment and hardly able to believe the noise had come out of her mouth.  With all that had happened, all she was sure was going to happen, she couldn't help but let go of all her troubles if only for the day.  Her whole body relaxed with the mental agreement, and Loki's hand held fast onto hers as Odin began to speak in a deep voice, the language not one that Natasha understood well.  There would be certain words that she understood, not many, but the meaning was easy to pick up on and she grinned as Loki took her hand nearest to him and spun her into his hold, whispering into her ear that he promised to cherish her, and spend the rest of their years together no matter what they might bring.  Though she knew they were coming, the pair having recited the verses back and forth in order for Natasha to get a feel for the dialect, they still brought tears to her eyes, and she twisted herself back away from him to say her own part.  

"I, Natasha Romanov, do swear to love you from this day until the twilight of the nine realms, that I might never turn from you and never have you turn from me."  She grinned, cheeks wet as she allowed herself to cry, and after Odin finished with his follow up, the pair exchanged rings--Loki's a simple golden band, Natasha's a ring from Frigga, an enormous diamond on a golden band--and then his lips pressed hard to hers and his arms circled her tight.  She cried in earnest now, holding onto him just as tight, before they finally separated and began to walk down the aisles to the applause of the crowd.  Tony caught her gaze as she passed and she dipped her head in greeting again, before they eventually made it out into the entrance hall.  

"Oh my god," Nat said with a laugh.  "We did it."

"And you didn't even pass out," Loki teased, winking.  She just grinned and followed him into one of the side rooms, fusing her lips to his.  He helped her pull her dress into the room, snorting at how long her train and cape was, and she joined in laughing.  "Hey, your mother decided on it," she reminded him as she turned around to ask him to help her undo the metal bustier.  With ease he simply vanished her clothing, watching as they hung themselves up in the closet.  Nat looked back at him and smirked.  

"Oh, really?" She teased.  

"Yes," he grinned as he turned her around, moaning softly to look at her naked form, as though he'd never seen her before.  Though, to be fair Frigga had made them sleep apart the last few days, so it had been some time since they'd been together.  As though turned to these thoughts as well, Loki grinned as he hoisted her up into his arms and fused their lips together again.  They had some time, Nat supposed, before they had to be somewhere, and when her husband could get her dressed in the blink of an eye she wasn’t too worried.  He tipped her up on the nearest counter, leveling his mouth between her legs and grinning up at her.  

“My wife,” he purred as he kissed his way up her thigh, biting every now and then to keep her attention, and Nat reached out to grasp the horns of his helm to hold on.  He moaned, as though able to feel the action, and set his mouth to her center, tongue flicking up on her clit before delving in to taste her.  Nat’s head tipped back as a moan shocked its way through her throat, hips convulsing and bucking back in time to the thrusts of his tongue into her.  

“Ng--Loki, oh my--.”  She panted, back arched, fingers tight on the horns of his helmet as he thrust his tongue into her faster, licking a long stripe from the tip to the bottom before eating her out as if he were starving.  The first orgasm took her by surprise, vision going white and the moan choking her as it struggled to get out, and when she finally came down to her body he was standing and licking his lips vulgarly, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips and his cock straining in his pants.  Nat arched a single brow before flicking her own wrist and watching his cock poke out as the laces of his trousers undid themselves.  Hooking one leg around his backside, she pulled him closer and into her in a single motion, moaning as he bottomed out inside her.  He didn’t waste any time in getting to work, thrusting into her quick and hard enough to reduce her moans to whimpers, his voice in her ear telling her how much he loved her, wanted her and only her for the rest of his life, before he finally thrust into her one last time, spilling himself inside her.  His thumb pressed between them, finding her clit, and as she tightened and squealed with her second orgasm he grinned against her skin, working her through it.  

A knock came at the door not half a second later, coloring Natasha’s cheeks in surprise.  

“Your guests are waiting,” came the voice of the guard, and Loki shot a foolish, wide grin at Nat, his own eyes bright.  As expected, he had her dressed in a green silken masterpiece, the fabric cut so it looked as though she was covered in thousands of long leaves, each outlined in gold, pouring down to the floor.  There was a small cut out from her mid-thigh down of sheer green fabric, and the neckline plunged to mid-sternum and mid-back, but she grinned to see it.  

“I would drape you in silks and jewels for the rest of your life, darling,” Loki promised in her ear, his own outfit fixed and cock put safely away, though Nat could still feel his come warm and sticky inside her, their own secret, even as Loki murmured the spell to stop her from getting pregnant.  She really needed to learn that one herself, just in case he ever forgot.  They both took half a minute more to sneak one last kiss and laugh caught between them both, before Loki pushed open the doors that would lead to the wedding reception.  Nat beamed to see the whole congregation gathered once more, to catch sight of Frigga’s less than surprised face at the way that Natasha’s hair was slightly askew, or how Loki’s grin was wider than ever.  Slowly they walked towards their own table at the head of the hall, Loki pulling her seat out for her before taking his own.  

Natasha thought the night would never seem to end.  Toasts were given from foreign dignitaries who knew Loki as a child, from Frigga who praised her son at picking such an admirable wife (and Nat admitted to tearing up quite a bit during that), to Tony who just grinned and gave his thanks--albeit cooly--to Odin for hosting him before offering his congratulation to the happy couple, and on and on they went.  The food was superb, and was followed shortly after by dancing.  Nat couldn’t stop grinning as Loki whirled her around the floor, the pair having practiced until the motions became as easy as breathing, and without the weight of what was to come on her shoulders she found herself loosening up, coming alive for the first time in what felt like a long while.  It was as though the convergence had never happened, as if Thor was still safe and sound on Asgard, as if she didn’t have a damn care in the world.  

The happiness crashed around her, slightly, when a cold hand tapped her on the shoulder, and Loki stiffened.   

“Mind if I cut in?” The low voice was like gravel, and coming from the twelve feet tall frost giant it was no surprise.  But Loki and Natasha both put on their best, most polite faces, as Laufey took Natasha’s hands in his own to whirl her slowly around.  It felt a little clumsy at first, what with him towering over her, but they got used to it, the other dance partners giving them both a wide berth as Loki took his mother by the hand and danced with her, blatantly ignoring Amora’s flirtatious gaze.  

_‘Good boy.’_

“You look lovely, Lady Natasha,” Laufey said.  “Though I confess to being surprised Loki chose you as his wife.”

“Oh?  Did you have another in mind?” Natasha asked, and it was everything she could do to keep the force from her voice.  

“No, but we giants are not known to be the affectionate, or even faithful, type,” he said with a laugh as bracing as a winter wind.  “Perhaps he’s not the frost giant they all say he is.  Perhaps I’ve been duped into thinking I owe him my ear and attention.”  

Nat stared up at him, her blue eyes meeting his harsh red ones.  She’d stared into Loki’s when they were the same, and the memory turned her lips up into a wry smile.  

“I was the first one he came to when he found out about his heritage.  Odin had lied, you see,” she said, allowing him to turn her around before continuing.  “Said he was an Aesir.  When Loki found out otherwise he was distraught.  Seemed to think you were all a monstrous race.”  

The giant’s large hand tightened on Nat’s.  She did her best not to wince.  

“I told him you were all no more a monster than that which hides under the bed of a child, that the tales of your supposed brutality were simply told from the side of the majority, rather than the voice of the society in question.  You hate him for being a prince of Asgard, for not having died, because you think he is too weak the way that he thinks you are a beast and a brute,” she said, once more holding his eyes with her own, even as she felt the familiar chill settling into her bones.  She wondered if her lips were turning blue, her teeth chattering slightly.  “But you’re not.  Neither of you are what you think you are.  He is cunning, your son.  Smart enough to have mastered his seidr in a land that cares not for magic, and you are resourceful and smart as well.  I can see he gets it from you, and it’s admirable.  You are far more alike than you think.  Perhaps you ought to use this time wisely to see how close you and your son can become.”  

Whatever the ice king had been expecting it was not that.  His chuckle warmed Natasha’s body, defrosting her, and it was all she could do to keep from rubbing her arms to quicken the process.  

“You’ve a quick tongue on you, my lady,” Laufey murmured.  

“As does your boy.”  Her cheeks flushed at the implication of her words, but it simply made the frost giant laugh, his head tipped back.  From the corner of her eye Natasha watched as Odin went tense at the noise, but Laufey didn’t seem to be angling for a fight.  

“Then in more ways than one does he take after his father.”  Laufey’s lips pulled back in a wide smirk, and when the dance was done he bowed to Natasha as she curtseyed, setting off to find Loki, so he said.  

“Might I have this next dance?”  

Her whole body stiffened.  She knew that voice, knew the way it made her heart sink into her stomach and her face grow pale.  She forced a smile to her face as she turned to stare at a being unlike any other she’d seen before, his skin purple and his shoulders as broad as Thor twice over.  He was decked out in golden armor, and around his wizened face sat a golden helm.  His one hand that had been extended to her bore a strange golden gauntlet, six empty sockets facing the floor, and she took his hand slowly before the next dance started up, this one much quicker.  

When he spoke, his voice rocked her to her very foundations, far more terrifying than Laufey ever could have been, than even Odin had ever seemed.  “A pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Natasha.  My name is Thanos.”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back to the cliffhanger endings. Hope you enjoyed the nice, long chapter! Thanks so much for reading, you are all amazing! <33


	4. Weak and Powerless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, sorry for the long wait between updates. Thanks so much for reading, and hope you enjoy!

It was all Natasha could do to keep herself from shouting, or making a scene as the dusty purple giant of a man spun her lazily around.  Only then, with the world twirling around her, did she realize that everything else was going at half speed.  She swallowed hard, nervous, heart running rampant, as she watched Odin’s head turning, as if the scene was being played millisecond by millisecond, towards her.  She was back facing Thanos by the time the Allfather had gotten a look at her, and hopefully of her companion.

“I wanted to take this moment to congratulate you on your wedding.  A pity your lover couldn’t be here to see it,” Thanos said, his voice just loud enough for her to pick up as he danced her around without any music.  Natasha allowed him to, letting him dip her and spin her without bothering to pull away.  What would be the point?  He was far too large to even consider escape through brute strength, and though she might be faster than him courtesy of being smaller, it would help her not at all what with everyone else being slowed down.  So she waited, barely breathing, as he moved her as he pleased, a doll in whatever grand scheme he might've had.  It gave her no delight, him treating her like a pawn while he gloated with his knowledge of the trust between she and Thor, but so long as he thought he was winning, well, she could only imagine what it would do to his ego.  What he’d let slip as a result.

“My husband is here, Lord Titan,” she said, keeping her chin raised high and her voice as even as she could manage despite its breathlessness .  “Perhaps you missed it but he was standing beside me the whole time.  Exchanged vows with me--.”

“Don’t play stupid, Lady Natasha,” he smirked.  “Your manners may be the highest a mortal turned Aesir can offer, and your tricks may work on most, but they will not work on me.  You and Thor seek to cuckold your new husband, and though he turns a blind eye you surely cannot miss how jealous it makes him.  Why else would he keep you from stepping foot onto Midgardian soil to reclaim his brother’s mind if not for that?”

Natasha allowed herself to show doubt, for her eyes to widen as though in shock as the information registered.  It made the man holding onto her vibrate with a laugh.  

“I am going to Midgard,” she said, the corners of her mouth twitching, as though she was trying to summon the courage to keep talking, as though he terrified her.  Well, he did, she had to admit.  She couldn’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t be terrified of him.  It only strengthened her performance as he spun her around.  

“I suspect you will.  How do you like the changes that have been brought to the planet?” He chuckled.  

“Not at all.”  Her voice was tight, her eyes searching around him as best she could.  Slowly, painfully slowly, soldiers were mustering to the side of the room, their weapons sharp enough to hack open the flesh of any creature.  Perhaps even the Titan in front of her.  

“No, and you are not alone in thinking so.  Perhaps Odin fears this.  Fears you, and what you could become.”

“You seek to sow doubt into my mind, Lord Titan,” Natasha said, keeping her voice tight and her eyes zeroed in on his own, holding his gaze.  In them she could only seen death and destruction and lust.  Not for her body as she was used to, no, but for her own end, and all those around her.  She swallowed thickly.  “It will not work.  The Allfather will defend me, and cares for my well being, if not for my sake then for the sake of my husband.  And my lover.”  It was pointless to continue acting as though she didn’t know.  “He knows better than to risk openly attacking me or sending me to the dungeons, and I am not so vain that I worry for myself when you’ve put a spell of some sort on Thor.”

Again, the Titan chuckled and dipped her low.  “Ah, when this place is razed to the ground perhaps I will keep you as a pet before I offer you up to my darling as well.  Your strength and your desire to prove yourself unafraid is most amusing.”

Her blood ran cold.  “I do not think service to your Lordship or whomever you court would bode well for me,” she said, body tense enough that he had to pull her back up shortly after.  The smirk that corrupted his face, that bared his teeth to her, only proved her right.  Desperate to look away from it, she looked to see that one of the sockets of the gauntlet he wore was filled.  The orange gem shone like the sun in her eyes, blinding and at the same time magnificent to behold, and she thought somewhere in the distance there was the softest of ticking noises, as though someone muffled a nearby clock.  Curious.  She’d ask Loki about it later.  Over his shoulder she could see far more soldiers had been mustered and were stepping towards them, but now they moved slower than ever, as if wading through molasses.  Loki had caught sight of her, too, and his face had gone white as a sheet, lips moving slowly, the beginnings of an incantation.  How fast were she and Thanos moving everyone else around them were all going so slowly?  

“Your affection for him will not save the princeling,” Thanos said, his voice little more than a purr in her ear, his own eyes flitting around the room as he pulled her up.  

“Which one, my lord?” She bit.

He smiled down at her.  “Either.  All will fall in time, Natasha.  Enjoy this while you can.”  With one last glimpse around he stood her up, bowed, and disappeared.  Time reordered itself, it seemed, in his absence, so much so that the guards coming to get Thanos nearly bowled into Natasha had she not backed up quickly enough.  She was trembling, able to feel her nerves beginning to get the better of her, hands trembling no matter how hard she tried to focus on calming herself down.  Loki was at her side in an instant, Odin leading them into a side room one blurred moment later.  She looked up at her husband, at the king, the one she’d sworn to protect some months ago, whose serious eyes and heavy lines drawn in his face put her even further on edge.  Not that she’d thought that even possible.  

“What was that on his hand?” She blurted out.  “The gauntlet.  There were six sockets, one of them filled--.”

“What color?” Odin demanded, one hand clasping her by the shoulder and shaking her a little so the color tumbled from her lips.  He let out a stream of curses she didn’t understand, and when she looked to Loki for confirmation of what was going on he simply pulled her into his arms.  Odin shouted to the guards that had followed them from the grand hall, demanding they check on the weapons vault.  So Thanos had had ulterior motives aside from visiting Natasha and bringing her the fear of his words.  She contemplated this as Loki pressed his lips to her forehead, breathing her in as if he'd been afraid he'd never get the chance to again.  She'd never tell him in front of Odin but she'd feared the same.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” he murmured.  “What did Thanos say to you?”

“That he knew about Thor and I.  He hinted he knew I had to do with the convergence,” she swallowed hard, not looking over at Odin.  She didn’t want to see what he thought of it all, sure she’d find out one way or the other, but why irritate herself with watching how he reacted?  She didn’t want to deal with his judgement.  “I told him I was going to Midgard.  He said that my love--that my love for Thor would not save him.”  She swallowed hard as she looked up at Loki.  Her husband’s face had tightened, his brow drawing together.  

“And yet you still mean to go,” he said, voice quiet as it met her ear.  She nodded, swallowing hard.  

“I must.”

“He will kill you.”  It was Odin’s voice coming from behind her that echoed the doubts in her head, and she turned to stare at him, her eyes narrowed.  

“Then you’ll get your wish after all, won’t you Allfather?”  She said, doing everything she could not to spit the retort to him, keeping his attention as she stared at him, not glaring but just keeping him aware that she knew what he wanted.  It wasn’t as though he hid it.  How could he?  He’d never been trained to, never had to worry about what everyone else would see when they looked at him.  He could hide his emotions from everyone else, certainly, but Natasha?  His tells weren’t exactly difficult, and the flash of his eye, the corners of his mouth tightening, the sharp intake of breath.  

And the lack of denial.

Loki’s arms tightened around Natasha as he drew her away from his adoptive father.  “Tomorrow morning you’ll leave,” he told Natasha, grinding the words out as though they pained him.  She reached over to take his hand in hers and tightened her hold on it, doing her best to reassure him without words that she knew what she was doing.  She had to know what she was doing, Thanos’ words ringing in her ears that she couldn’t save Thor.  That was a lie.  He’d never hurt her, she knew this.  The Titan was notorious for lying, almost as bad as her husband and herself.  Likely better than herself, if she was honest, she thought as she stood on her toes to kiss Loki hard on the lips.  

No matter.  She’d make a liar out of him further once she brought Thor back.

“Let’s enjoy the rest of the evening as much as we can,” she whispered against his lips, wanting desperately for it to be true, smiling up at him in a way she knew wouldn’t meet her eyes.  It couldn’t meet her eyes, would be too false if it did.  He understood, and pressed his lips to her forehead before leading her out.  Odin watched them go without a word to either of them, before disappearing to his own council.  

There was a soft hush that had fallen over the crowd when they came back into the room, Natasha’s smile back in place as though nothing had happened, Loki and she taking their place back on the dance floor again.  Frigga’s expression was tight, grim, and her eyes sought out where her husband had disappeared to before the married couple took up dancing once more, spinning around the room until Natasha could hardly hold her head up any longer, her thoughts muddled enough that she managed to enjoy herself however she could, holding onto Loki tightly.  

"Hey, Natasha," Tony's voice came from behind her, and she turned to give him a wide, nearly grateful smile as she greeted him, her cheeks a little flushed when he bowed down to her.  

"You're a princess now or something, right?" He asked,  a little playful as he surveyed she and Loki, the latter with his arms folded behind his back.  

Natasha nodded, and a moment later she excused herself from her husband's side to take a quick turn around the room with Stark, her head already heavy with exhaustion.  Tony, thankfully, seemed up to doing all the talking, apologizing that Bruce hadn't been able to make it, or Clint, and that he'd had to pay his way to get the privelage of getting there.  It had been, he assured her, completely worth it.  

"How're you holding up?  That purple guy bothering you?" He asked, concern etched into his features.  

Natasha sighed, going pensive for a moment.  He had a right to know, she supposed, and as he twirled her around in a rather slow waltz she explained what had been said, his expression sobering up considerably.  

"So I suppose I don't have to tell you that affection towards your husband's people is at an all time low, do I?" He murmured, licking his lips slowly, as though his real feelings about the subject were on the tip of his tongue.  

"No, I can only imagine.  This Brotherhood.  What should I expect from them?" She asked quietly, catching Loki's curious stare when she caught sight of him, in the middle of talking to Frigga, likely about what Thanos had said if the queen's strong shoulders and straight back were anything to go off of.  

"Well, so far they're headed by a guy who can control metal.  All metal.  Calls himself Magneto," Tony murmured, his feet beginning to lead them away, towards the edge of the dance floor.  She supposed he was right for doing so, not wanting to worry anyone else about what they were going to discuss.  Not that that made her feel any better about what he was going to tell her.  

_'What would possibly be worse than what I’ve already heard?'_

"Okay.  What do they want?"  She asked.  He'd led her towards one of the window seats, the glass pane opened up to help air out the room and keep it from growing too warm, and the chilly air felt like heaven on her heated face and mind, helped to sharpen the latter.  “Just the Aesir out?”

Tony shook his head, gnawing on the inside of his cheek and giving a soft huff of air as he looked down at his hands.  As she’d discovered from the time spent with him they were rarely ever still, and there was no exception in that moment, his thumbs beating a beat as furious as that of her heart from earlier that day.  “More than that.  Magneto’s been suppressed for most of his life, not just from the Aesir but from regular humans as well.  He’s looking to rise above and subjugate them all as he thinks they’ve done to him, or else eradicate them.  Including any mutant or person who stands in his way.”  He swallowed hard.  “And we’ve got a couple of mutants on our side.  X-Men they call themselves, but if Magneto’s power and influence keeps growing it’s going to be a lot more than just the Aesir that suffer.  They know about the nine realms, and if they think themselves powerful enough they might try and take on everyone that they can.  Especially if they keep rising in numbers.  That’s the worst case scenario that we’re looking at, at least,” he admitted, voice dropping in volume as another couple danced past.  Natasha could hardly believe it as she stared at him.  Why had she asked?  Why had she even thought to involve herself in this mess as well as her own?  

“So what are you all planning?  You can’t just keep beating them down, it only gives credence to what they’re saying,” she said after a few moments of silence between them both.  

“And yet we can’t let them go by without doing anything.”  Stark said.  “Or they’ll walk right over us and kill whoever they please whenever they please because they can and no one would stop them.  So which, equally appealing, path do we take?”  He was trying for a smirk, but she could see the real weight of the question weighing in the corners of his eyes and the stooped slopes of his shoulders.  She reached out to one of them, watched him come alive underneath her fingertips as though he’d forgotten she’d been there.

“I’ll visit Midgard tomorrow with you,” she promised.  “I need to settle this Thor business out there, and while I’m there we’ll figure this out, too.  I just need to get Thor taken care of first.”  She said.  “Once he’s sorted out and back on Asgard we’ll discuss how to beat these guys at their own game.  If they think they can simply take over Midgard, like Odin did, they’ve got something else coming to them.”  There was no way in hell she would ever let that happen again.  Midgard wasn’t a place to be ruled over as a single entity, and if she had the ability she’d sever the same ties they had with Asgard without a second thought.  

That happy power, however, wasn’t hers, and though their conversation dragged on a little while longer Natasha was beginning to yawn before too long, not for want of something interesting to discuss, but she was dead exhausted.  Tony returned her to Loki and by the time the rest of the guests had turned in Natasha’s head was drooping against her better wishes.  Loki chuckled and leaned over to kiss her temple as they said their goodnights to the rest of those who remained.  

“Would you like me to carry you?” He teased.  

She shook her head and smiled, leaning over to kiss him hard on the lips.  “Not this time, I think I can manage.”  She said as she followed him out the room and up the stairs towards their room, only stumbling over her feet once or twice.  The damn high heels.  By the end Loki did end up carrying her, smiling as he lifted her into his arms and over the threshold, his lips fastening to hers as soon as he set her down on their bed, sprawling her out and kissed his way down her skin as he bared it to himself.  She moaned, back arching, as he seated himself between her legs, kissing up her inner thighs before fastening his mouth to her waiting center.  She moaned and bucked against the attention, one of her hands finding his and threading her fingers with his as the other hand carded through his hair to hold him closer.  She felt his pulse in the way his tongue lapped at her arousal, felt the way he moaned with her, as though it was bringing him pleasure as well to see her so happy.  He brought her to orgasm more than once with his mouth, her cries throaty and exhausted as she allowed herself this moment, this one, shining, fleeting moment, to be happy, to enjoy the attention and bask in it.  Who knew when it'd happen again.  She thought the same thing when he finally joined the pair of them, pushing into her without struggle, accepting him as she wrapped her hips tight around his hips, fastening her lips to his.  She never wanted it to end, she found when she was forced to draw back for want of breath, his pace punishingly slow as he took his time to memorize each inch of her body, as though he'd never see it again.

They met their climax shouting for one another, her back arching, crushing her breasts against his chest, his arms wrapped as tight around her as they could manage, anchoring himself forever to her.  She fell asleep like that soon after, having ran her fingers through Loki's hair and smiled, doing her best to keep a cheerful smile on her face.  She felt it, and the kiss he pressed to her forehead told her that he felt the same.  

 

She woke up bright and early next day and slipped out from under her husband's arms just as the sun was coming up over the Asgardian horizon, moving along the room to pick up clothes to change into.  Something far more suitable for traveling down to Midgard, for goodness knew how long.  She'd be provided with money this time, as she had been the last, but still pulled on gold bangles and the like to ensure she had something to barter with.  Just in case. She didn't want to be taken unawares again, and with so much riding on whether or not she could get to Thor, it was important that she be as ready as possible.  She barely even noticed that Loki was awake until she'd turned back around and caught his gaze with her own, smiled a little.  

"You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?" He asked quietly from the bed.  "On the day after our wedding and everything."

He was teasing her, and she was grateful for it, smiling in spite of herself.  With slow, soft steps she padded towards him and leaned down to kiss him, the movement slow.  He returned it, wrapping one arm around her neck to hold her there.  She smiled against his lips, stroking the side of his cheek with her thumb, before slowly pulling away.  

"I love you," she murmured, the words soft and for just the two of them.  "And I will be back.  With your brother and the others in tow."  

His eyes flitted between her eyes and between the ease of her face, the lack of any stress or worry on her brow.  Watched as she breathed evenly, and smiled to see her watching for his reaction.  

"I trust you," he assured her.  

"I know you do," she answered, kissing his lips chastly this time before forcing herself away.  She wished it didn't have to come to this, that it could come to anything but having to leave her husband, but Thanos' words poisoned her hope. Only Thor back at her side, sane, safe, and the safety of Sif and Steve, would antidote the jitters and pounding of her heart as it ran rampant with the possibility of what was happening on Midgard.  "I'll be back before you know it," she promised him with a squeeze of her hand on his, before he rose to stand beside her, clothing himself with the flick of his wrist.  

"Heimdall will transport you down to Midgard where Thor and the others were seen last.  I want you to keep a hold of this," he said, summoning a small, clear stone to his hand and pressing it into her palm.  There were runes carved into it, ones she knew would open up channels of communication.  "This will allow me to talk with you, and you with me.  Far simpler than the cell phones Tony Stark seems so fond of."

She rolled it in her hand a couple times, felt the weight of it solid in her palm, pressed it to her lips to try and ensure it worked.  Sure enough, Loki presented a matching stone in one of his own hands, the surface of it glowing and likely burning white-hot for a short while to get his attention, before he pressed it to his lips as well.  

“I love you.”

She could feel the vibration of his words, rather than hear them, as though they were part of her being, and she drew what comfort she could from the knowledge that he would forever be nearly.  After pulling the stone away from her lips and depositing it carefully in her pocket so as not to lose it, she wrapped her arms around Loki’s neck.  “Aren’t you going to see me out?” She muttered against his skin, her face buried in his neck.  

“Of course,” he promised.  “I just wanted to get this. . . all of the emotional business done in private.”

Well, she thought as she forced back tears, she appreciated it.  It took her a few minutes to regain her composure, but eventually they were both ready to go, Natasha’s pack already equipped with whatever she would need.  Tony, she was certain, would help her with anything else, including money she hoped.  It was their world she was trying to save after all.  

Her nerves wouldn’t settle all the way down to the bifrost, even after she’d said her goodbyes to Frigga and Odin, thanking them both profusely for the wonderfully night she’d had and the amazing ceremony they’d put on for the both of them.  Frigga had held her tight, kissed the top of her head, and wished her all the luck, grateful that Natasha was doing the work none of the royals could do.  Odin bobbed his head, face drawn, and gave her his blessing.  Not a word was said about what had happened between them last night, the confirmation of Natasha’s belief that he wanted her dead, or at least wouldn’t object to it.  Whatever.  She had far too much on her plate than to worry about the old man’s anger at her.  

Tony was already waiting at the Bifrost, chatting up Heimdall as only Tony Stark could, Natasha realized.  The lax attitude between the both of them, though mostly from Tony’s side, put her at ease.  She was not alone this time around, with a huge, insurmountable task in front of her.  She had friends, allies, those she could trust on her side.  She could do this.  Her lips found Loki’s once more, blinking back tears furiously before she forced herself to slip into the mode long forgotten of a far more dangerous nature, the Widow stretching her limbs to regain control once more of Natasha’s mind and body.  It would be the most effective way, Nat thought, as she pushed away all thoughts that had crowded her mind, of the family she’d just found and was now leaving behind, of the struggles she’d have between herself and Odin for centuries, likely, or everything that didn’t pertain to her mission.

Get Thor back.  Stop the Brotherhood.  Stop Thanos.  

The loud humming of the Bifrost was beginning to feel like an old friend, the tug of the energy familiar after all the times she’d been on it.  Tony couldn’t have said the same, looking green in the face by the time they landed.  Nat had just enough time to register it before she tackled him to the ground, the throwing knife that had been aimed at his back sinking into a tree some ten feet behind, and still had enough force to split the bark.  A dark haired woman, eyes ablaze with a fire Natasha had never seen before, was running towards them on feet moving far too quick for her to be human, her armor familiar.  

_‘Sif.’_

Two large hands picked her up by the shoulders not moments later, familiar hands, hands she’d had running up and down her body, had held her tight through the night, and when she turned around she saw Thor towering over her, his grin jagged and dangerous enough to make even the Widow take a step back.  

“This one’s mine,” he growled, circling a hand around her wrist to tug her closer, smile going predatory as his eyes, usually sky blue, burned in the same way that Sif’s did, turning his gaze a bright red-orange.  Steve came out from behind him, scowling, before he and Sif both zeroed in on Tony, who’d gone white-faced and wide-eyed.

Loki hadn’t been kidding when he’d said they would be as close to the three Berserkers as possible.  

 


	5. Victim of Sensory Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Finally got this done with, and I'm sorry it's so short, but hey it's an update, right?   
> Enjoy and thanks for reading!

Nat pulled at the fingers that had tightened around her wrist, holding her fast to Thor, one of her hands pressing against his chest when he pulled her closer.  The fire of his eyes nearly hurt her own to stare into, forcing her to keep her eyes downcast, even when he tugged her chin upwards.  He complimented her on her beauty, his voice a huskier growl than she’d heard in some time, yet he spoke as though he’d never seen her before.  Just how much did he know about what had come before the change?  She shivered underneath his grip.  

“Thor, it’s me--Natasha,” she said, chancing a quick glance to his eyes.  He had to know her, didn’t he?  Nothing changed, and her stomach began to bottom out as she watched Sif and Steve passing Tony between the two of them, their lips spread in gruesome grins, the same as Thor's.  The Berserker rage, she supposed.  It certainly helped attribute to Thor's strength, she couldn't help but idly think as he started dragging her away from the other two.  Only then did she get a good look at what they'd done to the land around them.  The trees had been leveled, several other buildings on fire and split into pieces, bodies strewn all over the place as the sun began to slowly disappear down the empty horizon line.  Oh, Norns.  What had she gotten herself into?  

"Thor?  Thor--it's me," she repeated, reaching out to try and stop him, one of her hands pressing to the side of his face.  He paused for half a second and her heart nearly skipped.  Progress!  She hoped.  Her fingers caressed the side of his face gently, but rather than lean into it as he'd done so many times before he grinned and kissed his way down her wrist, biting the soft skin a minute later until she shouted in surprise, holding her hand to the pained spot.  What was that about?

"I like your fire," he said, voice deep and dragged out with lust, before taking her by the shoulder this time to lead her away, towards the one building that didn't seem to be on fire or destroyed.  Well, not entirely destroyed.  The hotel was only the best that the mortals could offer, the inside lavish as Thor dragged her in, and in a whirl her mind clicked as to what he was doing.  He didn't recognize her, didn't see her as anything other than a conquest.  How the hell was she supposed to get out of this with her head still attached?  Or any other limb for that matter if the bodies outside were anything to go by.  

"It's Natasha--you wouldn't hurt me, would you?" She asked once more, repeating her name in hopes that he’d recognize it before turning to face him.  He'd pushed her into one of the larger rooms, likely used for smaller business meetings, the room dark around them from a lack of power.  There was a table set up that he seemed to be angling her towards, and she about choked on her heart when she realized what he was doing.  

_'Think Romanov, think!'_

But what could she do without making him so angry he ripped her damn head off?  She backed up until her thighs hit the edge of the table, her eyes going wide as she forced herself to think.  It was difficult, what with the hulk of a man heading right towards her with little else on his mind but bending her over the table and taking what he wanted, but that was just it, wasn’t it?  Fire.  Fight.  A Berserker would crave that, looking for it in any place he could find it.  Her stomach bottomed out as the thought of how many other women he’d done it to, how many other innocents had had to suffer through this, before she laid herself back on the table.  An offering, she thought, if he looked at it correctly.  If not . . . well it wasn’t as though she wasn’t used to sleeping with him.  She twisted her lips into an easy smile, hooking her leg around his back to pull him closer, and for the briefest of moments she swore she saw him falter for the briefest of moments.  It passed in a flurry of his hands on his belt, however, undoing it and letting his pants slide down around his ankles as he hoisted her own up and around his shoulders.  She could kill him then, had he been human, or even perhaps with enough strength she still could.  She’d learned many a time how to kill a man while he was between her legs, the right pressure to apply where, the slightest twist of her thighs in order to snap his spine and make him drop to the ground.  

Her heart ached in her chest at the thought, even as he pressed one hand harshly against her core, rubbing at her clit until she was gritting her teeth in near pain, nowhere near enough lubrication to make it enjoyable.  She sat up and pulled him closer, crashing her lips to his, trying to lose herself in the familiar scratch of his beard, the pressure of his warm, chapped lips against hers.  He was all teeth and little finesse, not that there’d been much to start with, but the normal Thor--the real Thor, underneath it all--had been polite.  Here he kissed like he killed, all passion and pain, the fury of each movement shaking her to her bone and small strands of electricity sparking between the two of them, coming alive as he sought to conquer and devour her whole.  When his hand came to rest along the side of her face she thought he might relax, back off a little and leave her nearly bleeding, swollen lips alone, but it was simply to detach them and mouth along her jaw and throat.  It was all Nat could do to keep from whimpering as he bit her skin, practically drawing blood at the juncture of her throat and collar, but it only spurned him on further.  

There was a shout from what sounded like down the hall, making Thor tense, and with his attention diverted Nat took half a minute to pull herself back together, forcing herself to think of when they'd had sex in the past.  How amazing it had been, how good she'd felt.  She'd slept around when she didn't want to in the past, and she could at least call on her arousal at will so long as she had a little time to prepare.  Feeling the heat burning low and familiar between her legs, and the relief that came with it, she turned Thor's head back to hers.  

"Thor, focus on me," she purred, voice low as she kissed him again and led one of his hands, the one currently crackling with electricity, to between her legs.  The impulses made her gasp and he took that as a sign to go ahead, thrusting two fingers inside her without question.  While she would've appreciated a warm up, she'd take what she could get, moaning for all it was worth as he drove his hand faster and faster inside her, pumping her like he was working a forge, melting her inside until she tightened around him and squealed with a genuine orgasm, the realism of it frightening even her as Thor withdrew his two fingers and grinned to find them sticky with her arousal.  He painted her lips with them before sucking her juices from her mouth, all the while aligning his hips with hers until the tip of his cock pressed against her already swollen core.  

If she thought he'd been brutal before then she'd been prepared for nothing, his every movement forceful, as though trying to fuck his demons out, practically splitting the table in two with the force of his movements.  

And Natasha hated herself for enjoying it, the brutality, the way his fingers gripped her hips hard enough to bruise and practically crack her bones.  Neither of them ever let themselves give in to abandonment like this, and though the pain would catch up to her sooner rather than later she felt herself coming again.  At least it was with Thor, she couldn't help but remind herself as she tightened her thighs around him and squeezed, growling for him to keep going, his pace stuttering as he neared the cusp of his orgasm.  Just a few more seconds--.

He groaned as he spilled himself within her, and she shivered at the sensation.  Thor was usually so good at pulling out, and her heart leapt into her throat at the realization of what it meant, before swan diving into her gut.  'Oh no.'  

She didn't have much time to think about it before she was removed from around him, flipped over, and entered once again from behind, her fingers grasping for some sort of purchase on the flimsy wooden table as he took her even harder and faster this time, one hand burying in her fire-red hair to pull her so hard it was a miracle her back didn't snap.  

He didn't let go for some hours later, until finally satiated, he collapsed to the side of her, the pair of them long having moved to the floor after the table had collapsed mid-fucking.  Of course.  It was all Natasha could do not to let herself go completely, the man beside her familiar and yet at the same time he couldn't have been any different.  She'd really thought, really hoped even, that it might've made a difference.  That had he seen her as she was he would've remembered himself, even while deep inside her, and came to his senses.  As he wrapped an arm tight around her waist to hold her even closer, his nose buried in the crook of her neck, she felt her body begin to tremble, hot, fat tears leaking from her eyes despite how she tried to blink them away.  

She allowed herself that one moment, her shoulders already shaking, to let go, and though she made sure to at least keep it quiet she felt herself breaking down.  Behind her he grunted, muttering something about being quiet and stop moving, and though she swallowed back the rest of her sorrow it didn't go away, festering instead within her stomach.  There would be time to dwell on it later, she told herself.  Time to make peace with what had happened, what Thor was doing while outside of his right mind.  They could get through this for now, right?  

As Thor slept, Natasha stayed awake as long as she dared, planning what to do next.  Unsure of how the man near her would react to the morning after, she consigned herself to check on Tony either way, and after ensuring he was well enough and had returned home she would follow after the berserkers.  Something had to get through to them; she just hoped she had enough time to figure out what the hell it was.  If a reminder that she was there with them wasn't enough, well, she'd have to reevaluate what she thought about them and what she'd read, because there simply wasn't enough time for them to consider letting the rage run out.  For all they knew that might take months--perhaps even years,if the extreme cases were to be believed, and she didn't want to think about what that would mean for Thor, Sif, or Steve's mental health when they finally came to, or what the world would do to them as they ran wild on Midgard.  

Thor woke with the first light of the next day, blinking blearily a couple times before squeezing Natasha a little harder than she would've liked.  She felt him hard and pressing against her backside for the better part of a half an hour, and without question she flipped onto her hands and knees in front of him as he took his place behind her.  She wasn't sure if compliance was what he was looking for, as his movements stilled for half a second, but not about to pass up an invitation he went to work shortly after.  

By the time he'd finished the sun was high enough in the sky and Nat was more than ready for another sleep, every muscle in her body aching.  Still the red hue of his eyes never passed, even as she called out his name, begged him to remember who she was, nothing changed, and after he'd finished he rose to dress and leave without another word to her.  She took half a minute to collect herself, magicking clothing quickly to ensure she was covered, before she stepped out the door.  She jumped when Thor shouted for Sif and Steve to join him, Nat's wide eyes watching as they both stepped from the same room further down the hall, leaving it without so much as another word.  With a thrill of horror she realized Tony had been let alone with them. S he was a terrible person and with a quick, silent step she squeezed into the room the other two had come from.  Tony lay on the ground, covered with a thin blanket that hardly looked as if it kept him warm, and at the noise of her stepping in his head popped up.  He instantly relaxed as he realized who it was.  

"I am so sorry," she whispered, not sure if the others had left or not, moving fluidly towards him though her heart was heavy.  Norns, how could she have been so stupid?  He looked whole, mercifully so, and though there were bruises on his wrists and on his upper hips, and he looked absolutely exhausted and wrecked, he didn't seem to be too badly off.  She breathed a quiet sigh of relief.  "Are you alright?  I didn't know--."

"Nat I'm alright," he assured, voice hoarse, and she wasn't quite sure she believed him--the circles under his eyes spoke volumes more. "Just sore.  Your friends--wow.  That was a hell of a--.  Just wow."  He swallowed audibly, squeezing his eyes shut before looking away to try and find his clothing.  

"I know, they're not themselves," she murmured, her eyes apologetic and enveloping his, squeezing gently.  "But I had no idea they would--."

"Just don't.  Please don't talk about it," he said, pulling slowly away from her in order to get to his feet, no longer able, it seemed, to meet her eyes.  With a twist in her gut she recognized it.  She'd felt the same after the two guards had attempted to rape her, felt the shame that bubbled deep within at not being able to take care of herself, of being too weak.  She felt that now, if she thought about it hard enough, after what had happened with Thor, but it was different.  She knew Thor, was intimate with him.  For Tony?  She got to her feet slowly after he did, having moved to collect his clothing and pull it hastily on, the light blue of his arc reactor muted only by the dark shirt he'd been wearing, thankfully still in one piece.  She understood that they could never say what had happened here, because to say it, to give it the benefit of being spoken, meant it had happened.  Her guilt multiplied.  After he'd dressed she pulled him into her arms, and though she didn't think he was a very affectionate person he melted into her hold, managing to hold it all in rather better than she thought possible.  Admiration colored her view of him.  

"Don't tell Bruce," he murmured against her skin.  

"I won't.  I promise. And I'll find a way to make this up to you, Tony," she said.  "I'll find a way to make this all right."

He just dipped his head and her heart ached once more for her friend who, not forty-eight hours ago, had wished her well on her wedding, yet she'd led him to a pain like this, one he'd likely never had to deal with before, and one that would never go away.  

 

As promised to herself she saw him off to get back to America, and though he stayed quiet through the whole trip, the cabbie having filled the silence with animated talk about the end of the world coming up.  When they finally got out of the car he broke his silence, assuring her that he'd come back to help, and he'd bring Clint, and Bruce, and everyone else from SHIELD that he could manage.  Though she was touched that he was still willing to look at her, let alone help her, she shook her head and promised him that she could do this on her own.  Had to do this on her own.  There was simply no other way to do it, not when she'd already gotten him hurt.  She wasn't about to take the chance that the others would be injured, too.  Tony didn't fight it for once, and after she saw him safely off, she turned back from the terminal he'd disappeared through, mind racing.  Tracking Thor again wouldn't be the difficult part of the job, getting them to listen would be.  She had to do this, though, would do this, and steeled herself for what was to come--.

"It's said the Aesir went towards Kiel.  They're getting closer to Nuremberg, just like it was said they would," a soft female voice said, velvet-wrapped steel to Natasha's ears.  Slowly, she turned to try and make out who could be so close that she could hear them so well, to try and make out the woman who owned it, and was surprised to see blue, barely covered, skin standing against bright red hair, bending down in front of a seated older man, his hair white and his face drawn.  His head snapped up to meet the blue woman’s, lips twisting in such a way that Nat felt her heart grow heavy and her stomach heave with apprehension.

"Good.” He said, getting to his feet and shrugging on a large coat, his voice deep and as pleasant as the woman’s as he nodded towards the door.  “Then there is where we begin.  Call the others and have them ready.  If Odin thinks sitting back and watching his son decimate our world will send a message, then we will send one back he will not forgot."

 


	6. Let Your Demons Run

The blue woman was a shapechanger of some sort, Natasha quickly found out as she followed the pair as stealthily as she would have had she still been in the Red Room.  Thank the norns that those skills were not lost to her.  As she'd stalked her way behind them the woman took on a new appearance, that of a tall, leggy female with long black hair and blue eyes.  For half a moment Natasha's heart ached for Sif, for what her good friend had become.  Not that the two she was following seemed to care, not even a little.  They talked of them as if they were simply animals, ready to be put down.  The man, especially, seemed fed up with them, the female saying very little except to hum her agreement.  Once Natasha caught his real name, Erik, though it wasn't the name she was so interested in but the one that the one-blue woman called him when she leaned in close to press her lips to his cheek as they began to split up.  She whispered her goodbyes to Magneto before slipping into a cab and Natasha felt her heart stop for half a moment.  She knew that name from what Tony had told her on Asgard, a lifetime away.  Had it really only been two evenings since she'd gotten married?  She swallowed the lump in her throat as she thought on how she'd spent it, how fruitless it had been so far, but forced herself to breathe, to calm down.  There was a mission at hand, and if she wanted to get anywhere, if she was going to save Midgard and Asgard, then she needed to focus.  Personal problems could, and would, be addressed later.  The protection of these realms took precedence.  

As she'd gotten lost in her head Magneto had stepped down an alley, and for a moment she was certain he expected her to follow.  If what Tony had said, about him being able to control metal, then he likely knew that she was armed to the teeth with knives, all of which she'd been grateful that Thor had not taken when he'd stripped her and laid her bare in front of him.  She passed the alley with her head held high, pulling out the phone that Tony had given her just before he'd left, having slipped it into her pocket.  She had some semblance of idea how it worked, the man having shown her once the first time she was on Midgard, but as she fumbled with it she felt her heart quicken, feeling another figure closing in on her.  

"New technology is such a pain, isn't it?" Magneto's voice came from her side, as one bare, weathered hand extended.  "Might I?"

"Uhh, I just got it actually from a friend," Natasha said, trying to for a confused smile, shying away from his touch.  She didn't know this man, and surely a Midgardian would've been far more nervous around strangers than most Asgardians were.  At least she had been, and that couldn't have changed so quickly.  "Thanks though."

It levitated out of her hands and her eyes widened, feigning terror, before it landed in Magneto's hand.  He gave her a small, knowing smile.  "My dear, I think we ought not to lie to one another.  You know all too well who I am, yet I am unaware who you are."

So that was how he wanted to play it?  Very well.  She curled her lips into the smallest of smiles, playful but a warning.  Magnetic man or not, he really didn’t want to get into a fight with her.  "I'm not sure you need to know, sir," she said.  "I'm a very private person."

"As am I, yet you thought it fit to follow me here from the airport where I saw my associate off."

Was that what he was calling the blue woman?  She looked up at him as if he were the love of her life.  Associate didn't seem near strong enough for whatever their bond was.  “I was unaware that--.”

“I told you, don’t lie to me please, madam,” he said, his smile tightening and eyes hardening.  She swallowed, allowing the slightest modicum of fear to filter through her eyes as she watched her phone levitate again, before it was placed in her hand once more.  What she didn’t much like, however, were the knives that were lifting themselves from her pockets, the metal points shifting to face her.  She stood her ground, tipping her chin up in defiance as she watched his expression shift, grow darker.  

“A name, please.”

One of those daggers alone wouldn’t kill her, but all of them combined?  Well she’d rather not find out.  “Natalia,” she said, tasting the old name with the slightest hint of dislike. It was associated with weakness, of a time before the war that she would never get back, and never find a way to return to.  “Natalia Romanova.”  

Magneto smiled, though it was mirthless, as he picked one of the daggers up and examined it.  In her pocket, she felt the stone Loki had given to her grow warm, glad that Magneto seemed unaware of it.  “These as Asgardian made.  Where did you get such fine weapons?”

Ah.  There it was, her opening.  She sighed and pulled the sleeves of her shirt up, as well as the hem of her shirt.  Thor’s enormous markings had purpled and blackened from the night before, and though she was an exceptionally quick healer, what with both the serum and being an Aesir, they had yet to fade.  A testament to his strength.  Magneto’s brow furrowed.  

“Who gave you these?”

“The same man whose weapons I stole,” she murmured.  “After he finished with me for the night.  A blond brute.  You’re tracking him, aren’t you?”

“I am.”  He made no pretense, trusting the edge to her soft voice to mean her aggravation wtih the man.  It wasn’t all that forced if she was honest with herself.  She loved Thor, but why he seemed to have a habit for meddling in things that didn’t concern him was forever beyond her.  

“I want to help.”

Magneto smiled as he took her in fully.  “Really?  One night of tragedy and you have your wits about you enough to take his weapons?”

“I’m intelligent,” she assured him, hiking her chin upwards a little.  She couldn’t blame him for being mistrusting, especially given what she knew about his history, but it was sure going to make her job a hell of a lot harder trying to get him to listen and believe her.  “And I want revenge.  It looks like you do, too.”  She said as she took the knives one by one out of the air and put them back where they’d once been.  He didn’t stop her.  “If I’m smart enough to do that, don’t you think I’m a good candidate to help?”  

His face didn’t shift from his polite smile, but there was a certain fire in his eyes that, honestly, terrified her.  He took her hand in his and squeezed.  “My dear, I am certain to find some use for you.”

Didn’t everyone?

 

They went to a small hotel where Magneto had intended to meet some of his fellow mutants, colleagues as he called them.  His brothers, so to speak, if she was to go with the name that they’d given themselves.  It was there, sitting in a worn down arm chair, facing him as he stood with his back to her and his attention fixed on the goings on of the world below them, that she became privy to his life’s story.  He was repressed growing up, especially after he had discovered his powers, and his family was taken away from him.  There had been a group, before being defeated by the Aesir, known as the Nazi party.  Adolf Hitler, their leader, had believed that through distinguishing himself by defeating those who he saw as lesser he could be welcomed up to Asgard, made an immortal as they had done so many decades ago.  It wasn’t a long stretch, Nat supposed, to understand where he’d gotten the idea.  Only the strong, like herself, were taken to be made even stronger, to replenish the guardsmen that they’d killed in their fight against those who sought to take over Midgard.  According to Magneto’s memories, Hitler had considered those who were blond-haired and blue-eyed to be the superior race, not surprising given Thor’s appearance and strength.  It also explained why Magneto would have it out for the Aesir, particularly Thor.  His sudden appearance on Midgard, his repression and killing of those without bias, would’ve only brought back Magneto’s worst memories.  She couldn’t blame him, not in the slightest, and had it not been for her connection to Thor and Loki, and her current status . . . well, what made she and Magneto so different?  Give or take a decade or so they would have been about the same age, as it was likely he would have been a child when she and Steve were taken.  He simply grew up in the world she missed out on.  

She wished things would’ve turned out differently.  

As it was he stood across from her, his silhouette against the bright sun of the afternoon, his shoulders strong, obvious that his mind was resolute about what he was going to do.  He’d just finished how he and Mystique, the woman whom Natasha had seen, had grown to be companions, and now he turned to see Natasha’s expression.  She’d schooled it carefully to keep it sympathetic, and she was for what he’d been through.  It was disgusting and easy to understand his distaste for the Aesir.  They’d, to use Tony’s favorite termanology, screwed him over, made his life living hell.  Where she’d been captured and adapted to survive Magneto had managed to do the same, but with a less fortunate outcome.  

She wasn't allowed much more time to think it all over as there was a quiet knock on the door, a voice on the other side asking Erik to open up.  Magneto smiled and opened the door, allowing for a thin, blonde woman to step inside, followed by a beefy man that would've given even Thor pause had he been in his right mind.  A man with thick, messy white hair and a female with thick, dark curls came in shortly after, the former grinning like a loon while the latter didn't quite share his enthusiasm, and Mystique brought up the rear.  Her orange eyes narrowed slightly as she took in Natasha, arms folded over her chest, and gaze clearly conveying her distaste for the newcomer.  As if that mattered to Natasha.  This was what she had been looking for, and that Magneto had trusted her enough, well, she wasn't about to complain or get on Mystique's bad side so quickly.  

Introductions went around, and Nat allowed herself a tight smile as she met Emma Frost, Cain Marko, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff, and of course, Mystique.  No last name, shocker.  The latter seemed to know about her, too, better than Natasha would've liked.  She needed to work on her ability to stalk and go unseen, obviously out of work for far too long.  

"Thought you were going to kill her?" Mystique muttered when Magneto moved closer, thinking that Nat wouldn't be able to hear.  

"I changed my mind," the man said with a smile.  "She's far more useful than thought."

"Oh good," Nat couldn't help but say, her voice just loud enough for the other woman to hear.  "Glad to know I've got such a stable place."  

Emma's pale lips curled into a small smirk as she winked at Natasha.  Well, at least she had someone on her side, sort of.  Better than no one, but even the other two gentlemen were chuckling quietly while Wanda was just quiet, contemplative, before turning to whisper something into her brother's ear.  His grin just widened, and when he caught Nat's eye he winked.  

Right.

They all went quiet as Mystique started on her report, explaining how they'd found the news of the berserkers as she'd hunted down the rest of their company, Magneto tensing up as she told him that they were getting even closer to Germany, though there didn't seem to be any real reason why.  

"Emma, is there any reason they seem to be zeroing in on the country?" He asked, voice thin and fingers steepling in front of his face, having taken a seat.  Natasha eyed Emma, curious, watching as her expression went blank for a moment, as if she was looking at something very far away.  Surely she couldn't be--.

"I cannot see it.  Their minds are too blank, and yet at the same time they're filled with fire and anger.  Desire.  Too much to catalogue and most of it seems to be in a different language.  There's no trace for their thoughts, either.  They just flit from one thing to the next, only knowing that Stuttgart is the one place they must go.  There's something, maybe."  She went quiet, her brow furrowed and Nat felt her mouth go dry.  "Something they're moving towards.  To uncover.  But I don't think they even know more than that right now."  She drew a slow breath, and laughed.  "The blond one, Thor, is boasting about how strong he is.  Cain, you're going to have fun with this one."  

"It's what I do best," the huge man said with a grin, cracking his knuckles.  "Knocking some skulls together.  Wonder if they bleed red the same as us."

In the reaction his words brought no one noticed Nat's stuttering heart or the brief pain that flashed through her eyes.  No one but Emma, whose gaze slowly filtered back towards Natasha, her head tipped to the side, blonde hair shifting as she considered the new woman.  Before she could say anything else Magneto called for her attention, asking if a man named Xavier wanted anything.  She shook her head, and the others turned their eyes to the two siblings.  Nat realized, the blow hitting her hard in the gut, that Pietro was nothing less than the spitting image of Magneto himself, which would make he and Wanda--.

"He's keeping it close," the dark haired woman said, voice soft and velvety.  "But I'm willing to bet if Emma found out about where the berserkers are heading, then he's got some idea what's going on.  I wouldn't be amazed if they pull SHIELD in with them."

Magneto rolled his eyes, Nat not needing Emma's talent to tell his disapproval.  SHIELD would mean Tony and Tony had already suffered more than the poor man deserved to--.

"You know Tony Stark?"  Emma's voice was quiet in her ear.  Nat nearly jumped, too trapped in her thoughts to have heard her.  The woman's all-white outfit was just about as offsetting as her bright eyes, which told far more than anything else, showing Natasha just how much the woman knew about her.  

So why hadn't she said anything?  

"You know that I do," Natasha said just as quietly, trying not to catch the attention of anyone else.  "You know more about me than I reckon my husband does."  

Their gazes met, and Emma's smile grew further.  It didn't relax Nat.  

"Come with me.  They won't need us for awhile," Emma promised, leading Nat away.  The red-head felt Mystique's less than favorable stare on them the whole way until Emma and Nat were out the door, the heavy wood shaking the frame slightly.  Cautious as Nat was she didn't see another choice a, Emma led her further down the hall until they were at the elevators, Emma pressing the button to call it to them so they could go down a few levels.  

"Why haven't you said anything?" Natasha asked, very quiet as she erred on the side of caution rather than assuming and getting them both into trouble.  Though she watched Emma for her reaction, the woman was as skilled as Nat at keeping her face blank.  There was a soft ding as the elevator reached them, Emma stepping inside first with Nat bringing up the rear, and while Nat might've considered the woman's trust to be surprising it wasn't really as if she could take Emma off guard.  The smile on the blonde's face agreed.  

"To answer your question," Emma started after a moment or so of silence, the doors having slid shut slowly.  "I'm not wholly alright with Erik's plan."  Her voice was so quiet it hardly sounded over the hum of the elevator moving.  "He's following what is best for him and the world as he sees it, but he's haunted by his past.  We all are."  She shot Nat a pointed look that shook her to the core.  "But there's something more than just them looking to wreak some havoc.  Like with their minds being centered around finding, well, whatever it is they're looking for.  It doesn't make sense.  They shouldn't have a trajectory at all, or a destination.  Their ids are in full swing and yet not at the same time."

Beside Nat, emma deflated slightly.  "I'm damn good at reading people.  I've even put my fair share under trances like what your friends are under.  This?  This is far more than simply a state of mind and a rage."  

Just what Natasha had hoped to hear.  Her heart sank.  There was a pregnant pause between the pair of them and the elevator dinged to once more signify that they were at their floor.  Again, Emma took the lead, stepping with light feet down the hall until she was certain there wasn't a chance of them being overheard.  One of her hands reached out towards another door handle, and before Nat's eyes the hand turned white, shining as it caught the florescent lighting, before she tapped hard on the mechanism locking the door.  Her finger pushed through without any resistance, allowing them to step inside.  Nat resisted the urge to comment, just barely, as she followed Emma through the door, letting it shut hard behind them.  

Still, the woman knew and laughed quietly.  

"We all have our secrets," she said as she moved to sit on one of the beds, facing Nat.  "And diamonds are a girl's best friend.  Now, we've only got ten minutes until they want to leave.  Convince me why I should help you and Thor, because as wrong as Erik is when it comes to how he's going about this, your lover certainly deserves some sort of punishment.  And I'm really good with punishment."


	7. The Offspring of Your Might

They moved on from the hotel an hour or so later, and Emma’s smile met Nat’s as soon as they moved out, sharing a secret between them that Natasha wasn’t entirely sure of.  Her heart thudded with the hope that she’d done her job well enough.  Though Emma hadn’t outwardly agreed that Nat had convinced her, she’d seemed at least receptive to helping Nat out.  She prayed.  If not, well, Nat had a back-up plan: Magneto first, Frost second.  She doubted she’d be able to deal with Cain, but so long as she left him for Thor then the others would be simple enough to take down.  Mystique would be an absolute pleasure, payback for all the nasty comments and looks.  

But she hated not knowing for certain.  The airport was easy enough to maneuver, Emma helping smooth the way through with using her telepathic ability to get them to the next flight into Germany.  Not surprisingly few were going, the airplane nearly empty after everyone had boarded, which only made their arrival all the easier.  The recent destruction of the Berserkers had terrified many from getting anywhere near their path.  She couldn’t blame them.  Though they made a rather conspicuous troupe, what with the enormous Cain and the very lovely Wanda, Emma, and Mystique, who’d copped a blonde-haired leggy disguise, at least there weren’t many to question it.  Emma sat beside Natasha in the first class section, the others pairing up save Cain, who spread out over his extra seat wtih a grin to the others, not minding at all.  

“You’ve never been on one of these, have you?” Emma murmured quietly in Natasha’s ear.  She quickly shook her head, feeling a heat starting in her pocket as the stone Loki had given her burned for her attention.

Shit.

“No, I haven’t,” she said, looking around curiously.  She’d flown before, sure, courtesy of the Bifrost and with Thor fro, time to time.  But on a plane?  How bad could it be?

“Don’t freak out or they’ll wonder why,” Emma smiled.  “Just think of something pleasant.”

“Okay.  Why?” She choked on the last word, the large vehicle finally beginning to work.  Oh, hell.  She hadn’t thought that far ahead, and swallowed thickly.  Well that made sense that they’d have to pick up speed, that it wouldn’t be nearly as clean or easy as traveling with Heimdall or Thor’s assistance, but dammit, dammit, dammit no!  She tensed up as the plane started to turn and move down the long runway, her hands tight on the armrests of her seat.  She was supposed to relax, really?!  Emma tried not to smirk as she loosened beside Natasha, her shoulders dipping while Nat was surprised she hadn’t ripped the damn armrests off.  She had Mystique’s smirk targeted on her, while the others didn’t seem to pay her much mind at all.  Thankfully.  Though the flight wasn’t necessarily long, it wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences.  Emma seemed to almost be enjoying Natasha’s strain to keep herself from disclosing how worried and shocked she really was at the situation, even after she’d adapted as best she could to the feel of being so high up in the air and moving at such a speed.  Some help she was, though Nat was certain if the places were reversed she’d have been the same way.

Right.  Think of something pleasant.  She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to clear herself of the adrenaline that spiked zig-zagged through her veins.  As it always seemed to when she was stressed, her home came to her mind, the way the snow would move through the air, carried by a gentle wind, the way it smelled, especially on the first snow of the year.  Except this time she wasn’t alone walking through the streets of Russia, but Loki’s hand clasped hers, their fingers laced and his expression lighter, less pained, than she’d seen it in some time.  Thor was on her other side, his arm anchored around her waist, his body warm against hers.  She didn’t think she’d ever want to leave from that place between them, never having felt so protected or complete as when she was between the pair.  It helped her heart slow down, forced her lips apart as she sucked in even breath after even breath, forgetting that she was even in the plane anymore.  Nothing mattered but the familiar weight of the two men at her side, their heat and presence.  She loved them both dearly, and when Emma jerked her awake her heart flew into her throat.  She didn’t know what she’d do if she lost them.  

“We’re there,” Emma smiled.  “You slept the whole way.  Good thoughts, huh?”  She asked, and the light in her face showed Nat that she understood, had seen exactly what Nat had.  Heat filled Nat’s cheeks, about to apologize though it was Emma who’d delved into her mind, but the blonde shook her head.  

“I think I’ve got a plan to get your lover back,” she murmured as she leaned over, under the pretense of showing Nat how to fix the table in front of her.  “You’ve got something special between those two, whatever it is.  It’s not often someone with our background gets happiness like that, and while I’m envious as hell,” she admitted with a soft laugh.  “It’s a glimmer of hope and we all need that now more than ever.”

Nat hardly had time to choke out a thanks before they were being led off the plane, the aircraft having landed while she was asleep, and the group of them hurried into Stuttgart's airport.  It looked like it had taken a blow from some huge, outside force, likely Asgardian as much as Nat didn't want to think about it.  It would be hell for Odin, Thor, Loki, or anyone else who was in a diplomatic position to try and help them recover from this blow.  She didn't look forward to the headaches it would give them all.  Magneto led the way, his shoulders straightening as his gaze zeroed in on another group just off in the distance, a bald man in a wheelchair being pushed towards them.  

Emma let out a soft sigh.  "Of course Xavier would be here."  

"Who?" Nat asked, tipping her head closer so they could whisper.  

"Charles Xavier, head of a school for Mutants in America.  He and Erik were good friends once upon a time."

"What happened?"

"They picked sides."  Emma said cryptically.  

So it would seem.  The man didn't come alone, and as they neared Nat watched Magneto pull on a large, red helmate, rounded over the top, and slip it on his head. She frowned.  What the hell was that for?

"Worried about what's in your head, friend?" The man in the wheelchair said.  "I'd have thought Miss. Frost could help to block it all out."

"Emma has other things to worry about.  This is none of your concern, Charles," Magneto said very quickly, eyeing the others that had surrounded his friend.  Nat took quick stock of them as well, from the growling man just to the left of Xavier to the man with sunglasses guiding him on.  Their numbers were far greater than Magneto's own, and Nat couldn't help but wonder whether there would be anything left of the airport after they'd all finished with it.  All around her, her fellows were stiff and silent, mentally preparing for a fight.  Xavier's eyes focused on Wanda and Pietro for a half a moment, and with a nod he seemed to consign them to the opposing side.  

"I'm not here to fight with you."

"Yet you're not here to fight with us, either, are you Charles?" Magneto asked, folding his arms across his chest.  

"You know my stance on this situation.  You’ll only cause more harm, and you’re using this as a platform--."

"I'll not be weak and at the mercy of others again."

"I'm not asking you to be, but just consider--."

"I've considered it all," Magneto assured him with quick, curt words, tone dark enough to cut bone-deep.  "This is the only path.  I would ask that you stay out of my way, friend.  I do not wish to hurt you but if you are not with me, then you are by definition against me."

Xavier seemed hurt but unsurprised by it.  The man at his side, the one with oddly styled black hair who'd been growling, shifted, as though preparing to spring into action, and all it took was the slightest flick of one of Magneto's hands and the man went stock still, face in one of extreme pain.  

"Wolverine, you truly think you would be able to beat me?" Magneto asked with a smirk.  "Best stay out of the way and let the adults handle this." He shoved the dark haired man back without even having to touch him, though how Nat couldn't be sure when the man looked as solid and fleshy as the rest of them.  The opposing force sprang into action, each of them immediately on the offensive before Xavier called for them all to calm down.  

"We are not adding more injury to this city than it has already seen," he said, tone sharp as he looked once more at Magneto.  The others near Nat had looked about ready to fight as well, all save her she supposed, who'd stuck near the back to avoid detection.  It would make her life far simpler if she could remain as anonymous as possible.  Doubtful, she supposed, but it was worth a shot.

They managed to get out without causing a scene, a miracle in itself, and Xavier and his crew remained in the airport as Magneto his own men out.  Nat took the quickest headcount she could manage, roughing out the other’s numbers to those of thirty or so, though how they'd gotten there so quickly was a surprise to her.  How they were expected to keep from letting them over take Magneto's own was also beyond her.  She'd been in rough situations, number wise before, but with these sort of powers, genetic mutations, whatever it was Emma had called them, how was it she was expected to stand a chance?   

Her pocket burned once more, a reminder that she'd yet to talk to her husband.  She held it tight in her fist, wishing she had a moment to steal away and try and answer, to let him know she was fine, to hear how he was.  It didn't present itself, though, Magneto, Natasha and Cain piling into a car that Frost had tricked the owner into giving up without question while Mystique and the twins took to a second one taken the same way, and soon they were all set out following the path the Berserkers had left behind.  Nat could only hope Loki would be understanding, that things weren't so awful back in Asgard--.  Her heart caught in her throat, trying not to think about that, about what could've been so bad that Loki had tried to contact her three times.  

' _Not long now,_ ' she promised herself.   _'Not long and Thor will be back, and Steve, and Sif, and we'll be back.  We'll set up new arrangements to visit Midgard, and make sure that everything that happened gets fixed.  Not long and we'll set everything right.'_  

The symbols on her wrist burned a little, as though to tell her she was an idiot.  

It didn’t take long to track their quarry down, Emma behind the wheel simply needing to lock onto their thoughts.  More than that, though, was the sheer amount of destruction.  If Natasha thought that what she’d seen before was bad, well, it was nothing in comparison to this she had to admit.  Her throat tightened as they passed homes that had been literally stripped down to nothing but the bare base boards, the rest of it scattered as though ripped apart by the whirlwinds Thor could conjure--likely had conjured.  People were crying, bloodied up and watching as their homes burned, or else were irreparable, and all the while Natasha wondered at the other Asgardians that had been sent to deal with the Berserkers.  The guards, the warriors three who had been sent down after them.  What had become of them?  How had they let it get so bad, and how had Heimdall not alerted the Allfather to send more troops?  If Thor, Sif, and Steve were truly this powerful, how was it that he, Odin, had not come down and left Loki and Frigga in his stead while he dealt with the troubles of his son?  How was it that for being a deity, and more than that a monarch, he left his people to suffer when so much was riding on the public opinion of his son, who would one day inherit the throne and all of Odin’s responsibilities?  

She’d once heard, before the war that had brought her to Asgard, that God was omniscient, that just because he could stop things from happening didn’t mean he would.  That there were lessons to be learned from the disasters, from the pain.  She looked over to Magneto, sitting just beside Emma, watched the way his face tightened with every passing mile, and felt her throat tighten even further.  What deity was Odin if he simply left those he professed to care about to simply fend for themselves against men and monsters they could not hope to beat, not with a thousand men, not with a thousand Asgardians.  

And how the hell were they supposed to do this, with so few of them on their own side, and if Wanda and Emma’s predictions were right, with more against them?  

How was she, Natasha, supposed to consider getting away in time to save her lover and her best friends?  

She caught Emma’s glance back in the rearview mirror and tried for the smallest nod of her head.  

The destruction only got worse as the Berserkers headed into the city, and the highways running opposite them were teeming with people trying to get away, as Emma sped down the empty other half of the road towards the destination, Magneto shifting cars out of their way to ensure that they got there quickly enough, Nat watching as the needle pointing to the speed kept rising.  Her own tension went with it, swallowing hard as she forced herself to remain level headed.  She clutched at the knives within her clothing, watched as Cain beside her tensed, the very atmosphere in the car growing thick with apprehension as burning buildings came into sharp relief against a quickly darkening horizon line.  How was it that night had fallen so quickly?

The loudest rumble of thunder Natasha had ever heard shook the car and Nat’s heart with it, stealing her breath and her courage for the quickest of seconds.  Thor was in rare form if he was strong enough now to blot out the sun with his thunder clouds.  Spikes of lightning rained down from the sky, connecting ahead of them as they passed a burning sign welcoming them to the city.  The last chance to turn back.  

Emma’s foot pressed harder to the pedal.  

Above them there was more thunder, but more than that black, SHIELD jets cut through the sky, followed by another, far larger one that Natasha didn’t recognize.  From his place in the front seat Magneto growled, the sound murderous.  

“So Xavier has joined with SHIELD, the very same who would put him away if they got their chance,” he said, voice darkening.  “The traitor.”

Nat thought she recognized the gold and red arc speeding past them, before a jag of lightning nearly hit it.  One of the SHIELD jets was not so lucky, going down and landing within the city, crashing through buildings as it went.  

“I’ll not lie to you and say our task will be easy,” Magneto said.  “We are few against many.  But our cause is true, and our strength will be our greatest asset.  Keep your wiles with you, my dear,” Magneto turned to lock eyes to Natasha.  “And take your vengeance when the opportunity arises.”  

Nat nodded, setting her face into that of hardened determination, her brow pulled tight and her hands fisted on her knees.  Emma pulled the car to a stop just before the carnage of what Nat could only assume would be central Stuttgart, the ground too pockmarked for even Emma to make her way through, craters smoking from where Nat could only assume Thor’s lightning had struck.  Everywhere was death, everywhere was destruction.  Though the city crackled with danger and fire and smelled of ozone and death it was silent as ever, the only noises coming from the loud, angry rumbling above and further, through what Nat could only assume Hell looked like.  She swallowed hard as they piled out of the car, Mystique, Wanda, and Pietro behind them.  Without another word, Pietro took off, nothing more than a blur that Nat couldn’t hope to trace, and half a second later he was back, not even out of breath.  

“Shield is just landing now, they’re getting prepared to attack.  Might be to our advantage.  Xavier, however, isn’t having any of that.  He wants containment.  Trying to get the other humans out of the surrounding areas, but it looks as though they’re going to try and peacefully bring the Berserkers down.  What do we do?”  He asked, his eyes falling to Magneto.  

Emma sidled next to Natasha, reaching out to squeeze her hand, and Nat felt a quick burst of strength from the connection.  

“You take them down however you can.  Join with SHIELD, or even Xavier’s lot if you must but I want Thor Odinson’s head on a platter,” Magneto said.  “How it gets there I don’t care.  Cain, be wary of his hammer.  I’ll control it as best I can--it is metal, after all, but he’s just as deadly without it.”  

“Right.”  The man nodded, his expression darkening, having pulled a deep red helm on himself while they were in the car from the one bag he’d brought with him.  

“Mystique, get as close to the others as you can.  If you can turn them against one another, do it.  Wanda, Emma, Pietro, confuse them.  Natasha, take what shots you can.”  He said.  

They all consented quickly and quietly before taking off at a run towards the destruction, Magneto actually hovering and hurrying ahead to assess the damage, Pietro disappearing with him.  

Natasha stopped just short of the scene, her eyes wide and her jaw all but dropping to the floor.  Thor, Sif, and Steve stood in a half circle, their backs to one another, fending off agent after agent, Clint Barton firing arrows that seemed to almost bounce off of their skin as though they were armored, Tony Stark’s Iron Man shooting repulsors that Thor let rebound off of his hammer, before throwing it towards the man’s chest.  She barely kept herself from shouting as an enormous green beast came running out to try and take on Steve, though the once super-soldier now turned red-eyed brute fended him off as best he could with strength that surprised even Nat.  Sif was taking on Wanda, who’d tried to get into fist to fist combat.  It wasn’t going well for her, despite the pink and red energy that seemed to spike off of her and strike at Sif’s face.  

There was another thrum of energy as Thor gave a roar of frustration, blond hair matted with blood and eyes wide and wild.  A beam of lightning hit Mjolnir and connected soon after with Tony’s suit, hitting him straight in the chest.  The man went down just enough to make Natasha start to run forwards, just as another team of mutants surged forward, trying to get to the Berserkers, eager to join the fray and defend their planet.  

A familiar, low hum stopped Natasha where she stood, forcing her to whip around just as Emma swept past her, the air thick and thrumming with a familiar, old energy.  A rainbow bolt of light hit the ground and there stood Loki, his eyes wide as he took Natasha in.  He was covered from the waist up in blood and her heart nearly jumped from her chest.  No sooner had his name left her lips then there was another shout from Thor, another rumble of lightning, as Nat ran towards her husband and enveloped him tight in her grip.  They both turned just in time to see Thor, Mjolnir in his hands once more and surrounded by enemies, bringing the hammer’s head to the ground, hard enough to crack the surface wide open, lightning striking the ground at the same time.  The concrete split open, and from beneath surged thousands of green-skinned beings, their eyes yellow, ears pointed, and mouths widened in grins and shrieks of glee as the rest of the fighting stopped, the combatants having been blown back by the force of Mjolnir’s strike on the ground.  Natasha and Loki were no exception, the pair of them flying backwards, Loki landing on his back and wrapping his arms around her to prevent Nat from taking the worst of the blow.  

When the world stopped spinning around them, and the ringing stopped in her ears, Nat felt blood oozing down from a cut above her temple and gawked as more and more of the green-skinned invaders surged forward, taking on new appearances.  Familiar appearances.  At least three of herself stared back at her before sprinting off and into the city, and still more came from whatever crack it was Thor had opened up.  

What in the hell had he done?  

 

 


	8. Hold Me Till I'm Dead

The world hardly seemed able to move on after that, the doubles and triples and more that had appeared and kept flashing in front of Natasha's eyes disappeared round the bends of the city, crashing through buildings and using their newly inherited powers, stolen from those whose form they'd taken, to cause all sorts of mayhem.  The others, who'd all burst into motion half a minute after the eruption of invaders, were doing their best to contain what they could, Tony Stark flying overhead shouting out directions to whom he called the X-Men, Xavier's followers, and the other Avengers worked to contain that which they could.  Nat blinked blearily a couple of times, trying to piece it all together, Loki still wrapped around her, his face sticky with blood, and just a few feet away she caught sight of the second figure she'd seen emerge from the Bifrost, groaning as well and lying on his back, cursing in a language she couldn't quite recognize.  

And still the green-skinned beings poured forth like ants whose hill had been destroyed.  

'Thor.'  He was nowhere in sight having fallen backwards and had yet to resurface amongst the bloodied figures, coated in the green alien slick and their own crimson wounds, bodies both human and alien falling just as quickly as they seemed to be rising.  In the distance she could see Wanda's eyes closing, her hands outstretched and covered in a pink orb of energy as she struggled to work on the cracked, broken asphalt, but though the same light seemed to wrap around the hole it didn't do anything.  Natasha staggered to her feet, trying to shake off the last semblances of unbalance, before she started running towards the crevice, pushing through the teeming bodies to try and find out where the others had disappeared to, ignoring Loki's shouts from behind as she slipped into the mayhem.  

"Natasha!"  Emma, this time, caught her by the wrist.  Nat turned around,face pale as she watched Emma's lips twist into a sick grin.  Pain wracked her head sharp enough to make her scream and she was brought low to her knees, being jostled by those fighting around her.  Trying to gain her bearings even as it felt like her skull was being ripped apart, she pulled a dagger out and thought of throwing it into the other woman's head.  Her aim was good enough that it sank, with surprising ease, into the other woman's abdomen, her hands having raised and taken on a similar hue to when she'd broken through the door's locks as she'd prepared herself to defend her head.  Green blood gushed from the wound and the pain in Nat's skull dissipated, leaving a slow, throbbing ache in its place.  

"Who are you?" She demanded, voice loud enough to be heard as she neared the downed monster, its skin quickly turning pale green, blonde hair receding into a bare skull.  

"You will all die," the once Emma snarled, eyes turning green instead of blue.  "Thanos will have his victory and you will all fall--."

Another Emma beheaded it, red blood staining the white shirt and pants she wore, a few cuts fresh enough to let Nat see that it was--must have been--the real Emma frost, even as her hand changed from its iridescent form back to normal, covered in green blood.  She scowled as the headless figure fell to the ground and offered Nat her clean hand, which Nat took with a word of thanks before her mind jolted and she remembered what she was doing.  

"Where's Thor?" She shouted, grabbing her knife from the corpse of the downed alien before spinning to try and find the blond demigod, Sif, or even Steve.  None of which were anywhere near her.  

"Magneto has him, though where the others are I don't know," Emma said as she pulled Nat behind her, taking off running as fast as she could towards the outskirts of the fighting, dodging around combatants that seemed to have no sense of who or what was around them.  They past the man that had once defended Xavier against Magneto, strange metal claws stretching from the spaces between his knuckles that sank with ease into a man with a visor who'd, before that, been shooting red beams towards him.  The claws came out covered in green blood and the dark haired owner of them laughed in glee, the sound making Natasha's blood chill as she thought of Thor's similar happiness within battle.  She forced herself to run even faster.  

Far from the fighting Magneto had Thor by the throat, the metal of the Asgardian prince's armor pressing hard enough, Nat was sure, to at least crack bone, though judging by the anguish on Thor's face as he gritted his teeth and tried to lash out it was worse than that.  

"NO!" Natasha shouted, and as though feeding once more off of her emotions a force knocked hard against Magneto, propelling him back a few inches and breaking his concentration so that the metal of Thor's armor loosened and he was dropped to the ground, hard, onto his back.  He lashed out again, trying to kick at Magneto's jaw, the tip of his toe connecting just enough to send the older man further backwards.  From behind Natasha there was a cry, and a petite brunette with two strands of white hair flew at Thor, swiftly shifting mid-jump into Mystique, but Emma slammed her eyes shut and in another moment the shapeshifter was on the ground, her skin, hair and eyes shifting beyond her control as she clutched her head and screamed.  Nat ran over to Thor, stepping around Mystique, and though she didn't see Sif of Steve anywhere nearby she cupped the side of Thor's face, breath baited.  He looked slowly up at her, eyes hazy and mostly unfocused but blue, bright, and sea-blue.  She kissed him hard, muttering that he was never allowed to put her through this again, before turning to Magneto, who stared nearly imperceptibly back at her.  Only the tremor in his jaw, left side, betrayed his fury.  

“You betrayed us,” he said with a simple growl, his arms clenched at his sides as she felt the knives on her person vibrating slightly with his anger, yet they didn’t attack her, not yet.  Natasha stepped away from Thor, face set and resolute, wanting to reach out to Magneto but knowing better than to try and attempt it.  If he saw her as the enemy it was a miracle she wasn’t dead yet.  

“I couldn't let you kill him.  What happened to you was monstrous, Erik,” she said, calling up the name that Mystique used for him, hoping it would will him to listen.  “But look around you.  We need Thor on our side more than ever, don’t we?”  She asked.  “You want to see justice done, and you want to save the planet, save your race?  Human and mutant?  Let’s start here.  Afterwards Thor will hear your request for compensation for what was done to you in the name of his people, I swear to it.”  

Beside her Thor gave a weak ‘aye’ of consent, Natasha able to feel his hand on her shoulder as he used her not only for strength but to show that he was willing to listen to the terms that she offered.  Erik kept his silence, Emma standing beside Thor and Natasha as well, having given Mystique a break from whatever internal torment had been inflicted upon her.  Blue skinned once more, she got up to her feet and glared openly at the three standing opposite her.  As she went to attack, however, Erik put a hand on her shoulder.  

“I will hold you to it,” he said as he looked to both Natasha and Thor.  They agreed, and just in time as Loki ran up to the group, the other figure that had appeared with him following behind, the metal of his armor caked in deep green blood atop the layers of red he’d already adopted.  Loki, too, Nat saw as she focused in on him was a mix of red, green, and his own pale blue blood, the latter seeping slowly from deep gashes on his shoulder, but it was his eyes that caught her most off guard.  He looked terrified, absolutely out of his mind with fear, green eyes wide as he caught sight of Thor and gave him a quick once-over, as though to make sure he was alright, before his gaze turned to Natasha.  

“We need to go,| Loki said, his eyes fixing on Thor, then going back to Natasha.  There was a loud crash from behind them and an enormous ball of smoke and ash went up, catching the attention of all the others, who sprang into action to try and stem the flow of alien invaders.  

“We can’t,” Natasha insisted, her eyes moving quickly from the explosion to Loki, then back.  She had too many friends here, too many she cared about.  Sif, Steve, Tony, Bruce, Clint.  She had to make sure they were all safe.  And besides, she shook her head.  “We need to protect the Earth, Loki.  Odin swore a vow to keep them safe when he took over the first time--it’s time we make good on that promise.”  She didn’t want to add that it made no tactical sense that, since Thor had been wreaking havoc, they leave now to let the planet get overrun by more foreign invaders.  Couldn’t he see that?  

“There’s no time--we need to go now.”  He insisted, taking one of her hands in his and squeezing, as though it would help her see that he was serious.  Natasha shook her head.  No.  No she wasn’t leaving.  

“Tell me what happened.”  She insisted.  

“There isn’t time, we need to get back to Asgard.”

“Asgard,” Nat floundered for a moment.  “Loki, look around you!  Earth needs our help right now!”  She threw a hand out, as though to show him the madness that he was somehow missing, the monstrosity of the city being taken apart piece by piece.  How could he not think this was more important?  How could he miss that they owed the Midgardians a debt that could only be repaid by protecting them from whatever horrors Thor had unleashed?  Speaking of, the man had gone very still at his place near her, barely breathing, and Nat turned around quick to ensure he wasn’t about to pass out.  No, he was simply staring, fixedly, intently, at Loki’s companion, though why Natasha couldn’t begin to guess at.  He didn’t look any different, she supposed, than any other men.  Besides the armor, of course, though she could assume that if he was a friend of Loki’s then Thor knew him, too.  “Loki we’re not leaving.  If anything we need to figure out why the hell Odin hasn’t sent anyone down to help, if Heimdall can see what’s going on--.”

“Odin is dead.”  Loki’s voice was bland, quickly looking from Natasha to Thor, as though wiating for the latter to burst and scream and lash out.  He went lax instead, and Nat had to take his hand in hers and squeeze, sure that her heart had fallen right out of her stomach.  

“What?”  She could barely tell that she’d said anything at all, lips moving without recollection of saying anything.  

“There’s no time--.”

“Loki, what the fuck happened?!” She demanded.  No time her ass!  He couldn’t just drop a bombshell like that.  “Give me the condensed version!”  She was gone for three damn days and this happened?  Then, of all times?!

Loki’s words came out in a rush, nearly drowned out by the shouts coming from behind them as another explosion shook the city.  There was a familiar roar of rage, one she swore came from something more bestial than man, yet through them she could still make out: “He tried to tell me I couldn’t come to see and help you, that he would shut down the Bifrost.  That you and Thor had conspired to take Midgard from Asgardian control, Thor by causing mayhem, you by assisting in his death.  Said that you’d arranged for it all to happen.”  Loki swallowed hard.  “When I denounced him as my father and told him I was going to help whether or not he liked it he shackled me, had me led to the dungeon.”

“That’s where I came in,” the man at his side stepped forward a little.  Beneath the blood Natasha could just make out the etching of a wolf in the man’s breastplate, odd for an Asgardian warrior, most of which didn’t seem to have such personal, animalistic embellishments.  

“Fenrir, what did you do--.”

Thor’s question was cut off from a shout behind them: “Are you going to simply talk or actually help, for the love of the nine?”  

Sif looked damn exhausted, armed with her sword and limp boned, face worn down even as she thrust her sword into another advancing foe, yanking it out with a snarl.  Just behind her Natasha could make out Steve, bleeding from the side, but using his own weapon to cleave a foe in two.  They both moved closer, and Nat was relieved to see that at least they were still standing, after everything they’d been through.  

“We need a plan,” Steve muttered, looking back at the carnage behind them.  “They’re getting further away than we can track--Iron Man keeps saying that they’re spreading out like roaches.  We need to find some way to contain them because the further they go--they can change shape.  We won’t know who’s an alien--.”

“Skrull,” Sif contributed.  “I’ve fought them before.  They take on the powers and abilities of whomever they mimic.  Only way to tell the difference is to cut into one and watch it bleed.  We can’t do that to every mortal on the planet.  It’s impossible.”

“Is there any end to their numbers, do you think?” Natasha asked, looking between them all.  Thor’s face whitened, and he shook his head.  

“None.  We can do little more than fight them.  I will return to Asgard, command the royal legions, and bring them down upon the skrull to defeat those whom we can.  If we can find some way to stop them from coming through perhaps we stand a chance at stopping their complete takeover of the planet.”

“And if not?” Natasha asked, her jaw clenching.  She didn’t like the way that he turned from her, or how he blinked rapidly, as though trying not to show the truth through his gaze.  

“It’s a plan,” Steve amended quickly.  “Bring healers, too,” he told Thor.  “We’ll work on containing them.  Nat, some of your new buddies should be able to do that, right?”

Assuming they hadn’t all left her, yes.  She might be able to round up some to help with that.  The fighting had started spreading out, moving further out through the city, and she could hardly believe it when Magneto managed to maneuver an enormous building to collapse atop the crack in the concrete, and though it sufficiently covered the incoming skrull they soon broke through the metal and glass.  Contain these monsters?  She supposed they had no choice but to try.  Turning back to Thor she pulled him down for a hard kiss.  

“Be quick,” she begged.  

“I’ll do what I can,” he said, nodding to the others before pulling away to call Heimdall.  He disappeared in a burst of rainbow light, the tattoo of the rainbow beam the only sign that he’d been there.  It had also caught the attention of the skrull, and Loki’s jaw clenched as the horde began to turn on them, tensing at his place beside Natasha and taking her hand.  

“I love you,” he whispered into her ear.  She repeated the sentiment, before they rushed forward to meet the attackers, a sword appearing in Natasha’s hand courtesy of Loki’s magic, which then took out three or so opposing aliens in a burst of dark energy.  If this was how it was to end, she supposed as she swung her sword with familiar ease, then she would make an end of it to be worthy of a place in Valhalla.  


	9. Unstoppable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's what we've all been waiting for, I suppose. I've got one more chapter planned after this one, and am undecided about whether or not I'll add an epilogue after it. Thank you all so much for sticking with me through this beast of a fic--I've got one more planned in this will-be trilogy, so never fear! There is more coming =]   
> Well, enjoy!

It wasn’t enough to fight.  It didn’t seem to matter how many skrull she cut down, there were a half dozen or so to take their place each time.  Green blood spurted from every direction, and as she worked her way towards the center of what had once been a city, stepping over mangled body parts and the deceased, human, mutant, and skrull beneath her, she wasn’t sure they even had an end.  She saw and overheard Steve ordering the mutants and other fighters to try and figure out a way to get the portal sealed off, and as Loki responded immediately and contributed his magic to the efforts the first attempt was easily breached, the magic popping with nearly laughable ease, as though it was a bubble coming into concrete with a brick wall, bringing forth even more enemies.  These ones shifted even quicker than the previous, the copies coming out of the smoking, burning crater in the ground fully formed.  Natasha watched herself die as they assumed her shape, bringing her knife into her clone’s chest and pulling it back out with a satisfying grunt as they fell to the ground.  Though her own body healed she was still covered in her own red blood, and glad for it.  The last thing she wanted was friendly fire when she was having a hard enough time telling friend from foe.  For every one she let go, unsure whether they were mortal or monster, it gnawed at her mind that they were possibly the ones who were spreading out through the city, unchecked, uncontained.  What did they do about that?  

What could they do about it?

Despair hit her so hard she shouted with the fury, the unfairness of it all, wrenching her sword out of the gut of a rather imposing giant of a man, thankful for the green, thick liquid that covered her blade as the body began to shrink and fall to the ground, changing shape.  A very solid, very real looking Steve Rogers ran towards her, and all it took was a moment’s hesitation for it to crash into her and bring its sword to her throat before she realized the mistake she’d made.  She swore as she dropped down to the ground to avoid being bled dry, kicking out to catch it in the groin, enough force behind the movement that it went flying back and crashed into the man with claws extending from each of his hands.  The clawed man took half a second to register what had happened before ripping open the Skrull Steve’s chest with a swing of his claws, letting them retract after the body had fallen, spluttering, to the ground and shrunk to its normal size.  With his claw-free hand the man hoisted Natasha back to her feet.  

“No sleeping yet, kiddo,” he growled, the claws reappearing as he swung around to connect with an attacker, this one mirrored after a redhead she’d seen him walking with before, while Nat was forced to think creatively in order to take down another that seemed to be made entirely of metal.  Her sword was useless against its skin, and so she took his legs out from under him and after he fell to the ground with a loud “clang” she climbed atop to try and pin his arms down with her legs, taking his head and yanking it hard to the side.  The crunch that resounded was satisfying, but when the body didn’t shift, didn’t shrink and return to normal the way that the others before it had, she felt her heart drop hard into her stomach.  Not a skrull.  

_‘No.’_

With shaky feet she got off of the now lifeless man, one of her hands covering her mouth, before her shoulder was sliced open by a passing arrow, the would-be Clint Barton already notching another.  She hardly had time to think before she dropped down and threw a knife at his leg, sticking him hard in the shin and missing the upper thigh that she’d been aiming for due to her shaking hands.  She waited until she saw green blood before attacking again and taking its life.  

Once more she was hoisted up to her feet, this time by Fenrir, the one who had arrived with Loki, his armor a dark, murky color and his eyes a wild gold.  “Don’t lose your nerve now,” he said, voice somewhere between a deep, wolf’s growl and a man’s voice, before he swung to the side to annihilate another attacker.  Nat tried to listen, to follow his orders as she went back to fighting, but couldn’t get the eyes of the metal man out of her head, how they’d popped when his neck had snapped, as though unable to understand how it had all ended that way, and more than once she felt her stomach turn.  She wasn’t sure she’d ever forget it.  

The sky was darkening, far more than it had before, before a burst of rainbow light touched down some few hundred feet away, the armies of Asgard finally having arrived just as Loki and the other magic wielders finally found a way to cap the crater, the forces left behind forced to retreat as the newcomers made quick work of the remaining enemies.  Natasha’s eyes sought out Loki, found him leaning against his staff before swinging it to take out one last attacker, Nat thrilled to find him alive, before finding Thor running to aid his brother, and before she could run towards them to find out what had happened she heard the clang of metal hitting pavement.  

“Natasha, we’ve got an issue far bigger than this,” Tony’s voice came from his iron suit, his face plate pointed at her.  She turned, wiping blood from her mouth and feeling her runes on her wrist burn with unused magic.  She should have tried harder to help, should have offered before--.

“What the hell could be worse than this?” She felt herself asking even as her mind went in a hundred other different directions, swallowing thickly as the image of the mutant she killed came back.  

“The skrull, or whatever, that were unleashed?  This isn’t the only portal.  There were hundreds all over. I don’t know how they got there so fast but this must’ve been in planning for months, because pockets of these bastards are popping up everywhere.  SHIELD can hardly keep up, and most of our forces . . . well, they’re here.”  He admitted, and for the first time Nat allowed herself a look around.  Where there had once been at least a hundred other bodies there stood only a couple handfuls of mutants with the palace guards, each of them sporting wounds and looking haggard, whether they were mourning a fallen comrade on the battlefield or being tended to by the healers that Thor had brought with him.  

How was that possible?  How had they lost so many and yet not made that much of a dent?  Her mouth went dry and she looked over to Thor and Loki, swallowing hard.  “How many other cities?”

“We’re not just looking at cities.  Right now the UK is off the map.  Entirely.  We’ve lost all contact with them, Italy, and France.  Only a matter of time before it gets further than that.”  His face plate flipped up to look at her, his brow drawn tight.  “Natasha . . . what do we do?  If they’re spreading this quickly, they’re this mobile and able to adapt so that they can take out everyone else around them--.”

“We’ve got no choice but to evacuate.  Get everyone we can off the planet,” she said, lips moving quicker than her brain could catch up with.  

“Where the hell can we go?  They’ll get to every continent, even Antarctica if we could find some miraculous way of housing all seven billion people--.”

“Asgard,” she said quickly.  “And from there we’ll figure it out.  But for now Asgard.  Let me talk to Thor and Loki, and we’ll open up paths.  Tell Fury to get the word out and mobilize everyone he can spare to get them to places of highly concentrated populations.  Everyone needs to pass a test to prove they’re human before they can go, but it has to be done now if we’re to be preserved at all,” she said, her voice rising as she tried to push the nagging voices out of her head.  It would work, dammit.  It had to.  It was their only option.  “If you’ve got family I suggest you get them to SHIELD.  Tell the others to do the same while America is still on the grid.”  She said, before sprinting over to Thor and Loki, the former looking far more worn as Loki took him by the shoulder and squeezed.  

“We’ve got a problem,” Natasha said, and without preamble she launched into the quickest explanation of what Tony had told her she could.  “We need Heimdall to work at getting everyone through the Bifrost we can,” she said finally.  “I don’t know what else to do.  They can’t be stopped--.”

“And once they have Midgard all to themselves what will they do?” Loki asked, his body having gone very still even as he looked between Thor and Natasha, his green eyes wide.  They were all thinking it, and Nat’s heart seized.  She knew from having talked to Tony and Bruce in the past that America was in the midst of developing highly advanced weapons that would be able to attack other realms, should something like this happen, but when the threat was internal?  

When the technology came into the hands of the skrull, or Thanos as she could only assume it would once they left?

“What other choice do we have, Loki?” She asked, her voice breaking.  She was so tired.  So tired, and there was so much to do, so much that she couldn’t come up with a plan about.  

“You will both lead the people to Asgard,” Thor said, the finality in his voice making both Loki and Natasha turn to him.  “I will see to it that the skrull are stopped.  For good.”  He said, and Nat recognized the steely resignation in his eyes, having seen it one too many times.  

No.  She’d lost too much already.  “I’m not losing you again,” she choked as she launched herself into his arms, then dragged Loki closer for the quickest, tightest hug she could manage.  “I need you both.”

“I have no intention of dying, my darling,” Thor said, though she couldn’t read his expression and didn’t like it.  Knew it didn’t bode well for the honesty in his words.  “I am only doing what I know I can do.  I have a plan, do not worry.”

“You’d better come back to me,” she demanded, voice shaking but her grip on the hand he’d threaded in hers steady and resolute.  She did worry.  How could she not?  Loki, meanwhile, helped to separate the two even when Natasha tried to push him off, and gave his brother a silent, terrifyingly final nod before they parted ways, Thor estimating that everyone had to be off planet within two hours.  It wasn’t much time, but Nat knew it was a long shot either way.  She barely blinked back tears as he took off flying to wherever the hell it was he had planned, muttering the softest prayer to the Norns that it all end up alright.  It had to, didn’t it?  Hadn’t they suffered enough as it was?  

Somehow it never seemed as though enough would come.  

 

Loki took charge in the two hours allotted him, stepping into the role he’d been born to, the tactician working on his king’s orders, the advisor doing what was best for his realm and for his people as he made contact with Heimdall, and working with Tony, Nick Fury, and the others of SHIELD they used the two hours to set up extraction points at every SHIELD base on the planet, a total of twenty.  They wouldn’t have much longer than a couple seconds to spirit everyone away, needing to space it out so that there would be just enough time to get them away before Thor’s two hours were up.  Natasha went through the motions at Loki’s side, assisting in finding what humans she could, ones that hadn’t been harmed by the skrull but had hid out in their apartments or in the underground during the commotion.  Each of them was given a small nick on their hand to prove that they were, indeed, human, and only once they were all rounded up, and their time came, did the rainbow light envelop them all, the wounded mutants and the petrified humans who numbly followed orders, not sure what else to expect.  

Upon arriving to Asgard Sif rose to the occasion, testing each of the new arrivals the moment they touched down before guiding them down the rainbow bridge, Loki already spirited away with Fenrir at his side to warn his mother of the incoming arrivals.  The wounded went on stretchers, Emma and the other few Natasha was sure to be psychics keeping those they could numbed from the pain or else the hurt were in such critical condition that they’d passed out, and they were brought to the city as quickly as possible.  Natasha, alone and more vulnerable than she could remember feeling in her whole life, watched her friends go with them, Tony helping to lead the way as wave after wave of refugee passed through the Bifrost citadel, Magneto wheeling Xavier down the rainbow bridge with a slight limp, guarded by a battered Mystique and Wanda.  Cain carried a handful of injured on his back, doing his best to be as gentle as he could be, while Pietro had sped ahead to ensure that their way was clear.  Heimdall never failed to extract those who he could in the most timely of fashions.  As the last group came through, stumbling and looking shocked and slightly nauseous at the mode of transportation, Natasha turned to the gatekeeper.  She had to force herself to remember how to speak.  

“How much time is left?” She asked.  It had felt like a lifetime.  Thor didn’t know any of the extraction points, but he should still know to come back.  Shouldn’t he?  It was his plan, after all, she had to remind herself.  He wouldn’t let it end with his own death.  

Would he?  

“Not long,” Heimdall said stiffly, his eyes never moving from the observatory, watching the night sky as though it held all the secrets.  Would that Natasha could see what he did, that she could watch Thor as he did whatever it was he thought necessary to save the world.  Again she felt despair paw at her conscious, tugging at her carefully sewn together seams until she was sure she would fall apart at any given moment.  The seconds ticked by, though Natasha had no way of telling how much time had passed and it made it all the worse.  It couldn’t be much longer, could it?

Heimdall’s gasp was never a good sign, nor were the wide eyes she caught sight of before he slid his sword into its place and twisted it so that the Bifrost shifted to life.  Natasha felt her body tense, her breath catching in her throat.  

Thor collapsed on the floor, blood and sea water dripping from every inch of him, his cloak tattered and Mjolnir crashing to the ground with a low, ominous thud.  Heimdall sealed the Bifrost once more just as Natasha ran to her lover’s side, hoisting him up into her arms to check that none of it was his blood and felt herself pale to realize that he had a nasty gash on his left side, as though something enormous had taken a bite from his side, through the armor and all.  

“Does he have time to make it to the healer?” She demanded of Heimdall as the gatekeeper hoisted his now king into his arms and took off running, amazingly, thankfully, spritely for being such an enormous man.  It was all Nat could do to keep up with him, her sword forgotten in the observatory, and she shouted for the others to get out of their way, the pair of them sprinting through the city towards the palace.  The way was cleared without hesitation, and Nat could only hope, as they burst into the healing room and Heimdall set the now dangerously pale blond man onto one of the healing tables, that they’d made it in enough time.  If only she knew healing magic, she couldn’t help but think as she watched the other women, vastly more experienced, break healing stone after healing stone over the wound, hissing to one another when it didn’t heal well enough.  Loki, likely after having heard the commotion of Heimdall and Natasha, followed shortly after and grew very stiff at her side.  

“I know that venom,” he muttered as he pushed through the women towards his brother.  They let him, and Nat’s eyes grew wide as she watched his own green magic surge around the bloody wound, sucking out a green, viscous venom and directing it into a vial he conjured to contain it, his face drawn as he worked.  No one spoke, and Nat hardly breathed as he worked, rushing to his side to help him as he nearly collapsed from the exertion.  

“That’s Jormungandr’s venom,” he said, voice quiet, as Natasha brought him to one of the chairs on the side of the room.  She didn’t recognize the name, but Loki repeated it like a prayer, looking to Heimdall, who was still standing at the side of the room, his hands coated in the blood of his sovereign.  

“What happened?”

There was a pause, a breath that no one seemed willing to take, before Heimdall’s gold eyes turned to fix themselves to Loki.  “He defeated the Midgard serpent.  Midgard cracked in two, and as it was destroyed the skrull, and all others, were with it.”  He swallowed thickly, bowing his head to take off his helmet.  

Beside Natasha, Loki went limp, the vial dropping from his hands and smashing on the floor as his head fell into his hands and he openly sobbed.  It wasn’t until she’d taken a seat beside him, careful to avoid the venom that coated the floor, that she realized her cheek was wet when she pressed it to his scarred and tattered leather jacket.  

 

 


	10. Unforgotten

Thor still slept two days after coming back.  The venom had been pulled from his body, and his wounds had been tended to, and yet he still slept on without any sign of changing.  Natasha hardly left his side, nor did Loki even though he was acting king in his brother's absence.  He did whatever he could to try and heal Thor's injuries, spending hours looking after the elder, brushing his hair from his face and murmuring prayers, spells, whatever he seemed to be able to think of in his spare time.  Yet Thor did not wake.  Nat struggled to keep busy as well, keeping company and updating those who would come to visit--Steve, Tony, Sif and the Warriors Three, Frigga--and doing what she could to keep her mind from the possibility, even from the inevitability--.

No.  She wouldn’t allow herself to focus on that when her mind would wander down those dark pathways of thought, and oh, they came all too often.  They'd all lost so much already, the Norns had ripped so much from her and from everyone else so far, they couldn't take much more.  

Could they?  

Her head snapped up from where she’d been dozing, the constant nightmare plaguing her that Thor had died when she was watching over him, that there was nothing she could do to stop it, stole her breath from her lungs until she was gasping.  Loki’s gaze caught hers from where he was working over his brother, rubbing different potions over his arms and wounds, hoping they would revitalize his body enough to wake it.  

“Bad dreams again?” He murmured.  They both suffered from them, and she was grateful, then more than ever, to have him at her side for all of this.  She nodded, air finally making its way back to her brain so that she could try and regulate her heart’s beating once more.  Loki turned his gaze back to his brother, his pale, scarred hands working over the bronze skin with surprising gentleness.  The scars were from fighting off Odin’s two ravens, who’d attacked him the moment he’d stood up to Odin, distracting him quickly enough so that the Einherjar could bind his arms behind his back and gag him to silence his cries against what the Allfather had planned.  Loki had explained that, upon realizing that there was little chance of Thor coming back unscathed from his time on Midgard he’d devised a plan to wipe out the Brotherhood, and his eldest, in the same fell blow, and Loki had refused to comply with it.  The multitude of times spent attempting to contact with Natasha was Loki’s way of trying to explain to her that she needed to get away, as Odin saw it as his chance to be rid of her, too.  She’d long been a thorn in his side and so her demise would have been the proverbial icing on the cake.  

He’d never anticipated Fenrir, an old friend of Loki’s and a wolf shapechanger, to come to his friend’s rescue, the trickster having summoned those who he could to stay within Asgard in secret.  Trust never had been Loki’s strongest suit, Nat had known, but she couldn’t have been more grateful for it.  Odin had branded Loki a traitor, and as soon as his cry went up Fenrir had attacked, slicing off the hand that had commanded the ravens to attack before fighting off the soldiers.  Loki himself had finished off the Allfather he’d told her their first night back on Asgard, curled up in her embrace and sobbing into her arms.  For the hell that Odin had put him through, for what he had planned, the death weighed heavily on Loki’s shoulders and she could see it coming into play even now as he bent over his eldest brother, saw it drag his brow until she thought he might not smile again.  Her heart ached for him even then, watching as he bowed his head and muttered under his breath, eyes closed and Thor’s body glowing a faint green hue, the one she’d come to familiarize with Loki’s magic.  

“Is there hope for him?” She asked, voice quiet as she rose from her seat and poured a cup of wine for herself, and one for Loki.  

He pursed his lips as he took it, straightening and surveying the almost peaceful figure beneath him, Thor’s brow free of worry and pain, his lips quirked up almost as though he was smiling at a private joke that neither Loki or Natasha could ever hope to understand.  She took one of his enormous hands in her free one, rubbing the back of it with her thumb, watching as the scars spanned up his arms and his side from where Jormungandr, the once enormous world serpent, had sunk his fangs into Thor’s skin during their fight.  

“It is difficult to say,” Loki said at long last, having wet his lips and throat with the wine first.  “The venom is deadly but I think I removed it in time.  Now it’s simply a question of whether or not the Norns will let him live, and if they attempt to call him to Valhalla whether or not he’ll fight against it.”  Loki’s mouth curled, almost against his will, and he swallowed his own private joke down with more wine, though Nat could only guess at what it meant.  She couldn’t imagine Thor giving up so easily, either.  Certainly he’d fought for the right to rest, fought for his place in the great mead hall known as their heaven, but to leave them like this?  To leave his brother and mother?  To leave her?

She couldn’t imagine anything less like Thor.  

She pressed her lips to Thor’s still bruised knuckles before setting his hand down at his side.  “Do you wish to talk about--.”

“I really do not.”  Loki pulled away from his brother’s side, lips pursed tight as he set his goblet on the bedside table.  He hardly looked at her.

“Loki it might do you some good to speak about what--.”

“Natasha, let it rest,” Loki finally spat, his patience wearing thinner than usual as he turned away.  From the very corner of the room she watched Fenrir, who’d taken up guarding his new king, stand and follow after Loki as he swept from the room.  Natasha deflated in his absence, collapsing back into her seat and tipping the goblet of wine back so far that it was a miracle she didn’t choke by how quickly it filled her throat, the bite of it making her head swim and her eyes water.  She was lucky to have him at all, she knew, from what had happened between he and Odin and the other guards, and she was grateful for his intelligence in keeping his friends and allies close, all too grateful that her husband had survived.  But this man who kept her out?  Who refused to speak with her when it was so obvious they were both in need of comfort?  She didn’t know him, she wasn’t sure she wanted to if she was frank with herself, the wine making her bitter thoughts ever clearer.  How were they to present a unified force against those who would still harm them, against Thanos, if he couldn’t be honest with her or talk with her the way they once had?  

Her eyes turned to Thor and once more she leaned forward to grab his hand, squeezing it, and brushing her cheek against his skin.  For as much as Loki tried to deny it, as much as Natasha didn’t want to admit that she needed anyone, his presence was sorely missed by the both of them, not only as their companion but in every sense of the word but they were better as three, rather than simply two.  

Out of habit she brushed her hands against her cheeks, expecting them to be wet, only to find them dry.  She’d cried so much the last couple days that it seemed she’d dried up completely.

The soft knock at the door had her sitting upright in no time, softening her face so that when Frigga entered she was able to smile kindly at her mother in law.  “My queen,” she murmured, dipping her head as she rose from her chair.  Frigga shook her head and drew closer, kissing Nat on both cheeks before taking a seat.  

“I wanted to see how he was doing is all, there’s no need for formality,” she promised Natasha with an easy going smile as she stroked her son’s hair, summoning a small bowl of water with a cloth to wipe away the sweat that had been beading on his forehead.  “There is no change in his state?”

“Unfortunately not,” Natasha said with a soft sigh, trying to will her limbs to go lax, willing the wine to loosen her body.  When was the last time she’d eaten?  “I’m afraid, Frigga.”

The queen’s blue eyes, soft and sympathetic and everything Natasha had ever hated being shown, connected with her own.  She didn’t say something for a moment, which only made Natasha’s heart leap into her throat as she tried not to think about what that would mean.  Silence was rarely good, but from the queen, whom Natasha had thought might at least have some reassuring words, some story of when Odin or the boys had been in worse situations, said nothing?  She felt, more than anything, that her fear was shared, and it only deepened the chill that pervaded her veins.  Throat tightening, she closed her eyes tight and forced herself to breathe deep, to hold it for as long as she dared before releasing it once more to try and calm herself.  

Neither said a word for some time, even as the servants came to bring more wine and food, which Natasha refused.  She couldn’t eat, opting instead to drink further, sure she wouldn’t be able to stomach any actual substance.  Frigga, too, picked away at what was offered her, her eyes flitting back and forth from Thor to Natasha.  

“You love them both, do you not?”  She murmured.  

“I do, my queen,” Natasha said without missing a beat.  “I really do.”  How could she not?  Thor had made Asgard feel as a home, and Loki had opened himself to her and allowed her to do the same.  

“Then go be with Loki, my dear.  I can take care of my son, but it is Loki who needs you now.  Needs your attention wholly. It is attention that I cannot give him, and only yours that he craves right now,” the queen said, her voice soft though the corners of her mouth were turned up in a sort of sad smile.  Nat held her gaze for what felt like an eternity, trying to convey just how much it meant to her to have her there, that even in the midst of all this madness, the changes that had happened since Midgard had been--since they’d gotten back, since Odin had gone insane and tried to imprison the man he considered his son--that she still had Frigga on her side was more than she could’ve ever hoped for.  And so she swallowed thickly and thanked her with a quiet voice, dipping her head and standing slowly to make her way out of the room, squeezing her queen’s shoulder in passing before moving towards the small study she’d once trained with Loki.  She hoped to find him there, certain that if there was anywhere he’d go to escape the truth of what was happening around him it would be there, and certain enough Fenrir was guarding just outside the room.  He dipped his head in acknowledgement when she moved closer, allowing her entrance without question though he first waited for her to make a small incision in her palm to prove that she was, indeed, human.  She could understand the paranoia and the small cut healed up quickly enough, Nat having been keen to start learning how to use her magic once more.  Frigga had taught her as quickly as she could while Loki had ruled the kingdom, the two women having been looking forward to something, anything, to keep their mind off of reality.  

He had his back to her, and didn’t bother turning to face her when she entered, closing the door quietly before padding over towards him.  He’d taken a place on one of the couches they’d brought in after getting tired of constantly fucking on the table as their time spent studying magic seemed to so often lead, and so without another word she sat down beside him and leaned over onto his shoulder.  Half a minute passed, a full minute, then he wrapped his arm around her and allowed her to lean into him, turning his body so that she was lying on his chest and not his shoulder.  They didn’t speak, Natasha letting the thrum of Loki’s heart fill her own with hope, grateful for the consistent beat and the familiarity of his body, and though she ached to have Thor in her arms or to be in his she could settle for this for the moment.  She’d grieved as far as she could, but Frigga was right.  Loki was missing his brother, was missing the man that had once been known as his father, and while she’d been on--when she’d been gone she hadn’t been able to see him through the ordeal as she had through the first.  

“I love you,” she finally murmured, tipping her head up to look at him.  His heart stuttered in his chest and she smiled to hear it, to find the confirmation of his affection, before he pressed his lips to hers in a soft, warm kiss, pulling her wholly into his arms.  He filled her with his pain, his affection laced with the agony of being the survivor, the guilt of not having taken the same pains that his brother had welling up and spilling out of him and into her, a familiar poison to Natasha who’d experienced the same when she’d been taken from her own home and brought to live in Asgard.  She’d gotten through it, though, and as she wrapped her arms around Loki, twisting so that she could lay down on her back and pull him atop her, she knew he would, too.  They could make it through this, and when Thor woke up--because he had to, dammit all--they would all three work through this hardship.  She knew it.  

“I’m here for you, you know,” she whispered against his lips when they pulled away for breath, her voice thick and hand coming up to cup the side of his face.  “I love you.”

His face split into a grin, too painful to find words for, and his responding kiss told her he knew, that he always had, and would always feel the same.  It was all she could ask for from him and all she would ever want.  

 

Two more days passed before Thor opened his eyes.  

 

Natasha and Loki were in the middle of a meeting between a few mutants of both the Brotherhood and some of Xavier’s, both of which had sustained losses and were now conflicting between what they wished to do to make plans for the future.  There were few options, Nat was sorry to say, and most seemed to rest on which realm they preferred to live on: Vanaheim or Asgard being the more prevalent of options, though the former’s technology was nothing like what they’d been used to.  Were they all to stay on Asgard, though, there would need to be a specific amount of forest leveled to make way for the new housing, they would need to figure out the logistics of feeding all the new inhabitants when Asgard’s storehouses were already growing sparse.  It was a headache and a half, so when the messenger came running into the room Nat’s heart fell into her stomach, expecting only more ill news.  

“The king--the king has awakened.”  The man said, his eyes bright, panting between every other word as he looked to Loki and Natasha.  Barely a moment later and both were on their feet, Natasha excusing them as Loki already raced out of the room, Nat soon hot on his heels.  

Thor looked up when they entered, sitting back on his forearms, and the grin that he gave the pair of them was enough to cleave Natasha’s heart in two, Loki lurching forward to take his brother’s hand in his and Nat pressing her lips hard to his own, not caring that they were dry and chapped, only that he was warm beneath her and he responded without a second thought.  

She had to pull back seconds later to afford him air, laughing so hard she started crying as she pressed her hands where Loki held onto his brother’s.  She felt lighter than she had in months, though she’d only been through the ringer for the last few weeks.

"How're you feeling?" She asked, though it felt like a stupid question the moment it'd come out her lips.  He'd just woken up from a four day coma, how did she expect him to feel?

"Tired," he admitted.  "But well.  I know I ought not to waste my breath saying it but--"

"Then keep quiet," she half teased, bringing a smile and a laugh from both Thor and Loki that seemed too light, too fragile to survive in their world.  

"But," Thor pressed.  "Don't worry about me.  Hard as it may be to believe, but I've had worse."

Loki actually snorted and Nat nearly lost it at how his face lit up to see his brother again, the heavy bags under his eyes looking miraculously smaller, as though he hadn't been waking every couple hours in a cold sweat, trembling.  "Don't flatter yourself," he cut, though his words couldn't have held less venom.  "You know the only reason you ever come out remotely unscathed, or even alive, is because I'm at your side."

Thor turned his hand to clasp Loki's tight, storm blue meeting tired green.  "I know, and you've done it again."

Nat turned away to allow them both privacy, doing her very best to pull it together herself as she moved from Thor's side to pour him a goblet of water and press it into his other hand.  He drained it in half an instant.  Frigga's entrance not long after provided yet another distraction, and her eyes filled with tears the moment she caught sight of her boys  One hand raised to cover her mouth and when Loki beckoned her forward, Thor sitting even further up, she broke down into joy filled sobs, hugging them both tight to her though they had to do the majority of the supporting.  

"I'm fine, mother," Nat could hear Thor saying, his words muffled against her shoulder.  "I promise."

"Promises, promises," she gasped, releasing him to look him in the face.  "You're not fine until I say you are, which means you are going to go some time without fighting, my king."

"But--."

"No.  You will listen to me."

He paused.  "Yes mother."

Though she was loathe to leave Thor’s side, Nat eventually excused herself, needing to return to the small council they’d called before, and unable to keep herself from grinning so wide her cheeks hurt.  The others convened once more when she called them that evening, Xavier’s face understanding when she pardoned her and Loki’s sudden absence.  Erik didn’t seem so certain, his eyes watching Natasha’s face as she took her place back at the head of the table, food and refreshments brought to them.  

“So the king is alive and well?”  Erik asked, sitting back in his seat, not touching his food.  Wanda seemed to do the same, picking at the roast and looking up over at the empty seat where Nat imagined Pietro would’ve sat.  The man had revealed wounds far greater than originally anticipated, and he’d not been able to pull through.  The memory forced Natasha to take it back a notch.  Tact, she had to remember, was far more important than her own happiness.  

“Yes, thankfully,” Natasha said, dipping her head as she took her seat and folded her hands in front of her.  “He is on the mend, and if you would all like to wait until he is well enough to visit with you all himself I would understand.”  

Xavier shook his head.  “You and he are in confidence, and I will take your word to stand for his as well.  As long as that is agreeable, Erik?”  

The white-haired man nodded, and there was a similar assent that passed around the table.  The conversation picked up as though there hadn’t been a break in it, Xavier certain that moving to Vanaheim would be preferable, at least until they could figure out a more permanent home for the displaced Midgardians, but Erik was adamant about staying.  Natasha imagined that he wished to keep an eye on the royals, and she couldn’t blame him at all for the paranoia.  Like the rest of them he’d lost a home, lost family, Nat having found out that Pietro was his son and Wanda his daughter, lost friends most likely in the other mutants who were lost in the fight and the destruction of Midgard that followed.  She looked around to Emma, to the woman named Jean Grey, Logan, Kitty, to Mystique and Anna Marie, wishing she could read their minds to tell what they thought was the best for them.  Wishing she had better news for them, better options for them to choose from aside from staying where their conquerors lived, or on a new, unknown realm.  

“Do we know who did this?” Wanda asked from the side, tipping her head up as she looked to Natasha, pushing the dark curls from her face.  

“Aside from the skrull, who died upon the fracturing of the earth, no,” Natasha admitted.  “Though we’re looking in to who it could be.  Thor, Steve, and Sif’s state as Berserkers were brought on by a staff, unearthed by an uncertain source.  Sif and Steve have both confirmed that they were drawn to it,” Nat said, having asked them soon after they’d gotten back and gotten rest.  They’d needed all the information that they could get, and though there wasn’t much they seemed to remember due to the trance (though it was enough to make Steve’s face grow pale upon seeing Tony, and Sif to stiffen and her eyes to widen in horror,) the lead up until that moment seemed to be in crystal clarity.  “From there we can only guess at who it could be.  There is a man named Thanos.  A titan, as far as I have been led to believe,” Natasha barely hid a shudder at the memory of the way the man’s hands had held her tight at her wedding, how his words and his voice had haunted her dreams and nightmares alike.  “He hinted at himself being behind it.”

“But we’re not certain?” Xavier asked.

“No, there’s been no solid confirmation.”  Natasha said with a soft sigh.  “Only minor hints.”

“And where do we go from there?” Jean asked, leaning forward, her hands folded in front of her with her brow knitted tight.  

“I’m not going to force you to fight, if that is your question,” Natasha said.  “We’ll raise a militia, but it will be comprised of Asgard’s warriors and whoever else wishes to volunteer.”

There was a snort that came from Logan, who was digging into the wooden table with one of his claws.  His eyes met Nat’s when she looked over and the corner of his mouth tilted upwards.  “Those bastards just took my home. It might’ve been shitty, but it was home.  You bet your ass I’ll volunteer.”

There was a hum of approval that went around, and Nat looked at them all in turn, gratefulness rising up within her.  She couldn’t have asked any more of them, and of course she could understand the need for revenge, especially when Wanda’s bloodshot eyes met hers for half a second before she stood to leave.  “I’ll find permanent housing for those that wish to stay and fight, then.  The normal humans will be given the same option, though if Asgard is to be used as a training ground then it will be suggested that they leave for Vanaheim.  It would be safest.  If Thanos, or whoever is behind this, discovers that Asgard is preparing to defend itself or even attack, then those who cannot defend themselves would be better off elsewhere.”

They agreed to that, and Natasha left it at that, needing to confer with the Queen and with her husband and Thor, now that he was awake.  She didn’t imagine having an issue with it, and thanked them all for their time before those around her headed out.  Only when the door had closed, each of them gone, did she fully relax, dipping her head over to rest it on the table, taking solace in the cool, wooden surface against her forehead.  

 

Thor called Nat to his bedside one evening, after Loki had retired for the evening, Thor still on bedrest as his body struggled to manifest the same strength it had had before.  Sif and Steve had similarly been weakened upon coming out of their berserker states, and Natasha could only assume that the extra fighting he’d put himself through to dispose of Jormungandr and the skrull had taken far more toll on his body.  She sat beside him in bed, one of his arms wrapping around her arms as he positioned her against his chest.  

“I have been considering what had happened on Midgard,” he murmured.  “What I did to you when I was not myself.  Sif and Steve both tell me that they, too, remember the evening that you and Tony found us on Midgard, and I--.”

She shook her head and pressed a finger to his lips, watching how his eyes crinkled in confusion.  He still looked so tired, so worn, as though this weighed heavily on his conscious.  She hoped to ease it.  “It was not your fault.  You were not to blame for what happened.”

“It is dreadful, and quite frankly . . . You did not conceive?”  He asked, looking confused.  

Ah, this.  Nat shook her head, turning her gaze down to where her hands rested on her lap now.  After everything else had been taken care of, she’d pulled a healer aside to ask about it, to discover why her body hadn’t been going through the same changes it had not too long ago.  If she’d been with child before, and if Thor hadn’t taken the necessary precautions as they once had when they were consensually coupling, it was expected of her body to have conceived.  Yet, her belly remained flat, her womb empty.  She took a deep breath.  “They said I am unable.  That without more magical assistance I will not be able to have them.  The damage inflicted from the last time I was with child was far too great, and wasn’t cared for in time for it to repair itself correctly,” she said, finally chancing a glance up to him.  She wasn’t too certain what to expect, if she was honest, but guilt?  Guilt was not one of the emotions she thought he would hold.  She reached up to cup his face.  

“This isn’t your fault.”

“If I’d been there to help you before--if I’d not been caught up in what my father had asked me to, so eager to please him and prove to him that I was still the best warrior of Asgard, if I wasn’t so eager to prove to you--.”

“Thor,” she soothed.  “Enough.  You are not to blame for this anymore than Loki is.  This is how the world works, and if the Norns have decided that I am not to have children at this moment, well, then I am not about to argue with it.”  She offered him a small smile.  “Besides, I would not want to bring a child up in this environment, not without some semblance of certainty of what will happen.  This way I can be mother to all, not focus my attention and affection on one.  I think that’s needed far more than another mouth to feed.”  

He was silent as he considered her words, but leaned forward shortly after to press his lips firmly to hers.  “You are wise, my dear,” he said quietly.  “Loki and I are lucky to share your affection, let alone deserve it.”

“Yes, you are,” she said with a playful smile, resting her head on his chest.  He didn’t contest it.  

 

As Thor regained his strength, as he began to assume the duties promised to him since birth with Loki at his side, Natasha could see the realm begin to heal itself as well.  Soon as he could stand he and Loki made the rounds on those who were still injured, suffering from lost limbs, or even the psychological aftereffects of the war, offering each of them their thanks, condolences, and offers to assist in whichever ways they might be able to.  Bruce Banner was among the Asgardian healers, Tony with them and another woman named Jane, and Thor clasped them each on the back to thank them for their service not only to Asgard, but to him and in fighting against the skrull.  He was determined to make amends for what had happened, what he’d done but also what he’d brought along with his incursion on Midgard, and those who he talked to were receptive as he acknowledged their sacrifices.  Nat smiled to see the both of them coming into themselves, rising to the roles they were expected to fulfil since they were children, Nat more than happy to take a step back away from all the attention.  The realms needed a united, kingly and brotherly front, and now that the two were united, their bonds stronger than ever, she could only help the message would resound through the realms.  They have have taken a blow, Midgard may have fallen, and they might have been licking their wounds, but they would rise once more she knew.  They had to.  

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, end part two. I hope you enjoyed this beast--It was quite literally a labor of love, and while I'm sad to see the end of this part I am excited for the second part. It will be called "Speak of Grace" and while I'm not certain when it'll be up, I hope you'll keep up with the third, and final, installment of this.  
> Thank you all so much for the comments, for the support, the kudos. They're all incredible, and I appreciate every single one. You're the best I could've ever asked for. Thanks again!


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